Tying Up Loose Ends
by My Spirit is Beyond My Body
Summary: "Son. Sometimes, healed wounds tends to leave scars. And even as scars fade, they will always leave marks. I hope you realize that you're not a boy anymore. A man must do what he must." - Musubi has brought them together, thus their fates are forever intertwined. A year has passed, the end of one's journey signals the beginning of another, and the story starts anew. (Under Rework)
1. And so, the Search Begins

Sometimes, it feels like a dream. Other times, it feels like a distant memory.

" _Are you fondling your breasts? Geez!"_

It seems so far away, shattered into pieces, it would fade from my mind before I can have the chance to capture and piece them together in my head.

" _Be careful with your skirt! What are you doing! Put your foot down, there are guys in this room!"_

Like magnets, pieces of the scattered dream attract other pieces as though it wants to complete the puzzle. But contradictorily, another part of it repels the pieces as if refusing for such dream to be complete.

" _Musubi, everything is Musubi._ _They twist, tangle, sometimes unravel, break, then connect again. Musubi – knotting. That is time."_

Sometimes, nothing makes sense.

" _Haven't you heard? The comet's coming!"_

Other times, it makes _perfect_ sense.

" _What is… your name?"_

I have been having this feeling-

-the urge to search for something...

...for someone.

" _My name is—"_

Dreams, they are special and precious. Undeniably, they held an irreplaceable place in my heart. But it is as though the world itself is against me, I can never recall any of those dreams. Never a thing.

Every time I wake, even as what happen in the dreams is forgotten, this feeling would linger long after I awake from my dream, expressed in the form of endless tears.

" _Taki-kun, don't you remember me?"_

And so, I begin my pursuit.

" _I love you."_

Looking for something I should never have forgotten.

* * *

The nagging feeling constantly nudging at the bottom of his heart, Taki admitted, was hard to live along with.

But still, admirably, he put up with the emptiness that threatened to tear his heart apart, for a whole year. But those were torturous days, full of mental suffering and pain he had no choice but to silently endure.

Most of the mornings, with unknown reasons, he would wake up with his face soaked with tears.

On more than one occasion, his heart would throb strenuously whenever he saw the setting sun dipping behind mountains.

Every time he gazed up the night sky, the scenery of the starry night of Tokyo would serve as the trigger to his unstable emotions.

Most of the times, when he found himself alone without company, his mind would wander and an image would form: a peaceful countryside town surrounded by towering mountains, free from noises produced by many traffics and city constructions, immersed within the comforting embrace of nature.

He had been experiencing terrible mood swings, it was terrible, they would leave him out of breath every time it happens. He had come to understand depression, that was a feeling he constantly experiences on daily basis.

He had also found himself withdrawn and distant: in the classroom sitting back in the chair, enjoying the peaceful silence instead of fishing his phone out to fiddle. Fading into the background like a shadow, always waiting for someone to start a conversation instead of initiating it himself like he used to, smiling along with his friends when someone cracked a joke.

Was he... quieter? Reserved? Weary? Ragged? Emo? That's how his friends described him when he asked them a while ago.

He wasn't acting like his usual self, and he knew it. He wasn't exactly quiet about it either.

His father, his friends, his colleagues had no doubt noticed his strange behavior as well. And even without them saying it out loud, Taki knew they were concerned, from the glances they would throw at him when they thought he wasn't looking.

But he put up a strong front. He didn't confront them about despite how much he wanted to, for the reason of not wanting to burden them more with what they already had on their shoulders.

The boy sighed, fingering his wrist idly as he looked out the window at the distant skyscrapers. The nakedness around the bare skin around his wrist had been bothering him for quite a while already. Something was missing, always missing. Where was his wristband? Did he lose it?

 _Where did he get that from again?_

"Tachibana, are you listening to me?"

Said boy removed his gaze from his lone appendage, his eyes met his teacher's sharp ones, eyes heavy from the lack of sleep.

"Yes?"

The teacher sighed in exasperation, pushing his glasses up the slope of his nose, "you didn't reply when I called your name, and that's the fourth time in this week already. And yes, I've been keeping count," the teacher leaned in, brows furrowed, "your eyes are swollen and they have bags hanging under them. Do you perhaps don't have enough sleep? Trouble sleeping recently?"

Taki reached up and felt the puffy skin around his eyes, his eyelids were numb every time he blinks, "I'm sorry sensei, but I had trouble sleeping yesterday," he paused, "It won't happen again."

In truth, he woke up in the middle of the night, again. A dream, but had forgotten what it was about when he woke up. What's with all the nightmares recently?

Sensei stared at Taki intently, his expression unreadable. Eventually, he frowned, "that's what you said every time and I can't say I see any improvement. And to be honest, if I don't know any better I would've think you'll need a therapist. But now I just think you are feeling unwell," sensei's gaze softened, "you should go down and see the nurse, maybe head home and take a rest, you look like you haven't slept for a week."

"But—"

"Just go down Tachibana, this isn't up for debate," the finality in his tone was clear even to him, "I rather not have a student lazing around my class."

Sighing heavily, he nodded, and grabbed his bag hanging by his desk, rising from his chair slowly and headed towards the door. He cursed under his breath as stumbled slightly, legs shaking from stiffness.

"Tachibana, do you need someone helping you down? Just sayingm, but you're stumbling quite a bit," His teacher's _concern_ despite the sarcasm was always well appreciated, but the snickering of his classmates was getting under Taki's nerves, and it didn't help with his worsening mood.

"I'm fine," he scoffed as he opened the door, "I'll see you all tomorrow," and stepped through it.

Taki straightened up slightly as the door closed behind him, groaning as his spine popped, and made his way down the infirmary.

He wasn't as tired as he appeared to be. Sure, he'd admit that he was exhausted, but not to such extent. He just didn't felt like doing or talking about anything. In all honesty, if anything, he felt a little dead inside. He had a feeling that a good sleep would not be able to change anything- assuming if he could have a good sleep.

The nurse looked up from her newspaper as soon as she heard Taki slid open the door, she stared openly with slightly wide eyes, lips parted as she took in his ill-looking appearance.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Taki assured as he quickly adjusted his tie. Not quite reassuring enough, though, as his voice cracked a bit at the end.

The nurse narrowed her eyes at his nonchalant tone, a frown adorning her rather young features.

He was immediately sent back home after a decent scolding from the nurse.

* * *

 _Basked in pink and yellow, the world was enveloped in light as dusk came and passed._

" _Let's write our names on each other's palm."_

 _Kataware-doki, it was a beautiful view he would no doubt treasure forever._

 _He took the girl's hand and caressed it as though it was made of glass, slowly spreading her fingers as he pressed the tip of the marker gently on the smooth skin._

 _An idea came to his mind, and Instead of writing his name, he wrote:_

' _I love you'_

 _A bitter smile came to his face, his eyes blurry._

" _Your turn," he pressed the marker on the same hand he wrote his message, concealing it from her prying eyes._

 _Time was slipping through his fingers, yet strangely he felt no rush as the girl smiled dazzlingly, dozen times more beautiful than the view of the heaven._

 _She took his hand- god, how smooth and soft a girl's hand felt like- and prepared to scribe down her name._

 _The marker was rough against his skin as she wrote the first stroke of her character._

 _The marker dropped to the ground with a dull thud._

 _He blinked, the warmth around his hand vanished, not a lingering heat remained._

 _She was gone when the sun disappeared behind the mountain._

 _The world dimmed and faded to darkness, leaving him with a hollow feeling._

Taki woke with a start.

He shot up his bed shivering, gasping as he gripped the spot above his heart, for a moment he was afraid to find it punctured from all the pain he was undergoing.

He was sweating, and it drenched the shirt he was wearing, Taki grunted in dismay, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, but then felt something wet on his face.

"…what?"

He glanced down at his sheet, droplets of liquid were staining the blanket with a rapid pace.

Taki froze, he reached up to touch his eyes.

"Am I... crying?"

He rubbed his eyes in hope to get rid of the tears. But it was futile, as more would spill every time he attempted to dry his eyes.

"What's happening to me?"

The tears continued to drop, providing no answer.

* * *

Later, he translocated himself from his bedroom to the kitchen.

He didn't bother opening the lights, refusing to take the risk of waking his father up after such a tiresome day. So instead he squinted his eyes a couple times to have it adjusted to the darkness, so that he could navigate around his home without crashing into a wall. He made it to the kitchen without much difficulty but with stumbling steps.

It was until then he found out that he was not alone.

"Taki?" his father said as he turned, standing by the counter pouring himself a cup of water, "why are you up so late?"

He sighed tiredly, hand unconsciously brushing his bangs: _of all times…_

"Nightmares," he mumbled curtly.

 _Was it, though?_

"Nightmares? Again?"

Taki wasn't in a very good mood for talks, especially after his little episode. He grunted an acknowledgment as he shifted beside his father and poured himself a cup.

His father watched as Taki quickly gulped down the water, ignoring the droplets of water escaping the edge of his lips.

And as the boy was finished with his drink and placed it rather harshly on the counter, ready to head back up to his room, his father spoke, "you know what? Come sit with me, Taki. It's been quite a while since we've really sat down to talk."

It wasn't the usual stern and command-like voice his father spoke to him with, it was a soft and low tone he rarely heard him use, one that left no room for arguments, he complied without a question.

Still in the midst of darkness, Taki moved to sit on the sofa while his father sat on the couch directly across from him.

"Seriously, what's wrong, Taki," his father said, concerned, "you know you can tell me. I know that for a fact nightmares don't act up that frequently."

"You would know, you studied a doctor degree in your university.

"I self-studied a degree in psychology as well, in case you don't know. So I do know a thing or two about human mind and dreams," his father retorted smoothly, "alright now, are you going to tell me what's happening to you lately or are you going to just continue to stall?"

"Like I said, it's just some silly nightmares," he glanced around the room to avert his father's eyes, "no big deal, they'll pass soon, in a couple of days."

"Taki," his father said, almost pleadingly, "I'm your father, just tell me."

He teeth went down hard on his lips until he felt the skin on the verge of breaking. The tightness around his chest further strengthen as he was continued to be pushed, the hollow feeling almost unbearable.

He didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to share it with anyone, just discussing the subject made the pain worse. It was personal, it was something only he could solve, something that he didn't wish to discuss over with someone else.

But...

Taki glanced up to his father's warm gaze. So welcoming and of love worthy of a father.

What's the harm?

"I... I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you, about my feelings of all things," he chuckled throatily, palming his face, "but honestly speaking? I have no clue," he said truthfully, eyes not meeting his father as he rubbed his left wrist stiffly, "but, what I do know is that there's this feeling, in the bottom of my heart that has been bothering me for quite a while already. I've been acting pretty out of character recently, which I'm sure you've noticed already."

"I won't be a good father if I don't, Taki. It's always the status and condition of the children's mental and physical health that is the parent's first priority, above all work and other stuff," his father mused, "and well, you are not really subtle about it either."

"I know," he sighed shakily, "but... but the real problem is… I don't know the reason I'm behaving this way."

"Puberty," his father commented immediately. Taki deadpanned at that.

"I'm long pass puberty, dad. And I'm pretty sure that all puberty does is making people moodier, not causing people depression issues," he chuckled hoarsely in amusement, "and besides, my voice hasn't gotten any deeper, right?"

His father was silent for a couple moments, unresponsive to Taki's attempt to crack a joke. Then he shifted on the couch across Taki.

"Then what do you suggest is the reason?" he asked, hands clasped on his knees.

"I told you, I don't know," he sighed again, tiredness creeping up his body, "but what I do know is that I've been feeling kind of off lately."

He paused, lips quivering and he had to swallow a gulp of saliva from his mouth.

"I've been feeling… depressed? Easily dispirited? Downcast? Shabby?" he suggested, "well, you get the idea, it's all the ugly feelings. It gets pretty confusing when it acts up randomly out of the blue."

"Taki," his father stated seriously, "be serious and honest with me: are you sure you don't need to see a therapist? Or a doctor? I'm sure they can do something to help your condition because if what you are saying-"

He growled lowly, "I swear to god, for the last time, I don't need any therapists! I don't need you and Mr. Takoda keep telling me that," realization dawned, the slight taste of betrayal bitterly swirling in his mouth, "don't tell me he called you again. He did, didn't he? Not wait! Of course he did!"

"Son, he's your teacher too. He has the privilege to be concerned with your health as much as he does with your study."

He gritted his teeth, mood swinging sideways again as he felt irritation growing in the pit of his stomach.

"I can take care of myself just fine, I don't need him berating me for my wellbeing nor prying into my personal life," he argued tightly, eyes narrowed and fist clenched. He was breathing heavier than usual as his fuse dwindled rapidly.

His father stayed silent for a couple tense moments, before he sighed defeatedly, "fine, I'll tell him that you can handle your problems on your own and tell him not to interfere anymore, good enough?"

He pursed his lips, the anger subduing as he took a deep breath through his nostrils. He nodded in agreement and his father exhaled in relief.

"Now, continuing with the subject in hand," his father resumed, pulling them back into the topic, "have you considered the fact that perhaps you are just feeling a bit under the weather?"

"You think I am feeling a _bit_ under the weather, and for a year no less?" he questioned, a bit sarcasm leaking out, "no, that's definitely not the reason. A menstrual period won't even be able to give me half the depression I am feeling, that is if men can have a menstrual period."

His father shut his mouth, a very annoyed and forced smile appeared on his face as he asked tightly, "then what do _you_ think is the reason, smart son of mine?"

Taki blinked at being the one questioned. He contemplated deeply and carefully.

"Well, there's this… feeling. Like there's something missing in my life, a huge piece if I might add. And... there's need to search for that missing thing. Something, someone, or somewhere. Like a hole that must be filled," he scratched his head in slight frustration, "it's kind of hard to explain it."

"Searching for something, you say? That's specific."

"Look, I don't know, it's all very confusing," he nearly snapped, another wave of agitation rising as he dwelled on the thoughts for too long, "give me a break. They don't make any sense even to me. In fact, nothing does. Why would I want to look for something I have no idea of?"

"Allow me time to organize my thoughts, Taki," his father mused after his outburst, "correct me if I am wrong: for some time already, you have been feeling a bit on the downside, and that caused you to behave oddly compared to your normal self. And the reason why you are feeling gloomy is… because there's something missing in your life?"

"Something like that," he sighed, "I know it sounded ridiculous and-"

"Oh, no. I believe you," the man interrupted, leaning over to pat him on the shoulder reassuringly, as if comforting a child not to burst into tears.

"You do?" He couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice.

"Oh, trust me, I know how vast the sense of loss could affect people, especially someone you dearly love," his father assured, smiling bitterly, "when a huge chunk is torn from your life, it will be your most painful moment. Speaking from experience, I'm sure you'll know."

His wife, Taki's mother. His shoulder shook and shuddered.

Now he recalled, those were memories he had repressed deep in the back of his mind, hoping that one day the pain would be forgotten. His mother died in an accident when he was still at a young age, practically still a child.

After she passed away, it took more than a few years for his father to recover, and even when he did, he's never the same man as he was before.

"Taki," his father said, drawing him back from his thoughts, "at least tell me, what have you done to solve this problem of yours?"

This rendered him silent. He hitched his breath.

"No? None? Nothing? You suffered a year because of it and you do nothing about it? You are not curious of the source causing you all this pain?"

"…I assume that it would pass when time goes on," he stuttered out, "all wounds can be healed by time, right?"

His father sighed in annoyance, "don't give me that crap, I have always hated those little sayings. Well, guess what? Not all wounds can be healed by time, they leave scars. And scars, they don't fade, they stay with you forever."

Taki gulped, his father just swore. He had rarely shown so much outward emotions in the years he had lived with him.

"You know, your grandfather always told me to cope with hard feelings, to deal with it like a man, and eventually they would fade. But I know for a fact, that it is just a bunch of bull," the man's wrinkled face darkened as he spoke, "I'll tell you this, and I want you to keep this in mind."

There was a dramatic pause as his father reached up and took off his glasses.

"My father fought in the World War, and climbed quite high up in the ranks actually. And I think you can guess how bloody and brutal it had been." Taki nodded slowly, still not quite processing what his father wanted to say, "they face death every day on the battlefield, watch brothers who had fought and bleed with them killed in front of their eyes, end a life with a pull of their trigger."

"Like any soldiers, he faced immense stress and pressure after going through several near-death experiences. It wasn't pretty. And it wasn't rare where men had broken down and end their own lives to relieve them of their pain. In a war, mercy does not exist. It's a 'either you die or I die' situation."

"My father was one of the stronger willed ones, he suppressed and coped with his emotions, and fought the war like any brave men would, he was the perfect soldiers to public's eyes," his father snorted, and Taki concluded that his father was never in good terms with his grandfather, "and guess what happened when he came back, all the suppressed stress and grief exploded from the fragile glass bottle; he went mad, he abused me, he became a drunk, and eventually, he killed himself."

Taki flinched, he never knew about that. He knew that his grandfather killed himself while he was still a baby, but he never knew that his father was an abused child.

"My point, son, you don't suppress your emotions, ever. Instead, let them out, let them all out. Cry if you need to, vent on something if you must, but don't ignore them and leave them be."

"Face your problems instead of putting them aside. Repress your emotions and you will end up regretting it," his father patted Taki on the shoulder and smiled, "if you don't know how to let your feelings out, search for a way. You said yourself that there's something missing from you that is keeping you feel this way, so search for your missing piece, instead of straight out neglecting them."

Taki didn't say anything. Or rather, he couldn't say anything with the amount of awe going through him now. Another part of him nodded in agreement at his father's words.

"You are still young, son, it's fine for you kids to lean on someone when you need support. Just know that if you need to talk, I'll be here."

His father gave him a last affectionate hair ruffle before he stood and left the living room, "Give it a good thought, son. Good night."

And Taki was left alone in the living room.

* * *

And so, he did.

He kept his father's advice to heart and pursued whatever thing he was searching for.

Deep down, he knew that it was meant to happen sooner or later. Sometimes, some things were inevitable, one way or another. And besides, he was tired of not knowing and ignoring the painful wound carved on his heart, and he wanted to get rid of it. But to do so, there were researchs that were needed to be done.

It wasn't hard to find the lead than he originally thought, as surprisingly, all this feeling started after his little visit to the ruined site of Itomori town, the sketches he still had piled on his desk was a proof of his obsession regarding on the destroyed town. And of course, the unneglectable feeling gnawing at his heart would only intensify every time he laid eyes on a picture of the still undamaged site of Itomori, it only further proved the connection he had with this little countryside town.

And so, with baby steps he decidedly took, and began by doing research on Itomori, reading through articles he had gathered during classes, rushing to the library after school to look for worn-out newspaper regarding on Itomori Town still in its active years, staying up all night to look through forums on the net regarding the mysterious town.

But every time he scanned through the information he had gathered about the comet crash or the background of the town, he had a tingling feeling behind his head that he had already known such stuff.

Four years ago, a comet passed by the Earth. It would have been a magnificent scene, but as it approached Earth, the core split because of the Earth gravitational pull and the shards had landed directly on Itomori Town at night.

 _The Tiamat Comet._

There was originally the annual autumn festival, but somehow the mayor had been planning an evacuation practice beforehand, and implemented during the day the comet hit. It succeeded in evacuating the inhabitants of Itomori to the only undamaged grounds of a high school minutes before the comet landed. No one had died much to both the inhabitants and scientists' disbelief.

People said that it was a miracle that no one died.

 _Was it? Was it a miracle?_

Some other had said that the mayor had somehow foreseen the crash of the comet and ordered the evacuation practice.

 _The mayor didn't foresee it, someone told him._

People had a suspicion that it had something to do with the sudden explosion of Itomori substation, which had blown up without any specified reasons. People assume it was an omen from the gods.

 _Someone planned the destruction of the station, it was a part of the plan, for the evacuation broadcast._

But Taki knew that there was more behind it, something important, something not exposed to the public.

Taki already know for sure, that all this strange behavior he had been going through was directly related to Itomori Town, even if the only time he had been there it was already in ruins.

Literally, the hollow feeling in his chest was yearning for the place. It went without saying, that if there was any existing place that would have the answers to his questions, it would be that small and wrecked town.

And so, he decided to go there searching.

The next day, when Taki walked out of his room clad in full traveling outfit, his father was not surprised. He hadn't been surprised the slightest when he saw Taki packing his bags yesterday night, he merely asked where Taki was going and for how long, when Taki told him that he was going to Itomori, his father didn't question him.

"I will notify the school, be sure to be safe and call at least one time every two days," his father said, returning back to his newspaper, "just go and do what you need to do, Taki."

His father was a stern and strict man, but Taki also knew that at times he was an understanding father who cared for his child's well-being. Not once had his father interrupted him when he was neglecting his studies to search for information regarding Itomori Town, because his father knew how important this was to him.

He bit his lips; his father had done so much for him.

"Thanks, dad, for everything," his father was facing his back towards Taki, but he bowed anyway.

And as Taki stepped out the apartment, even if only slightly, he felt a little tad better. He felt like he was finally making progress with his life.

* * *

A breeze blew by and Taki instinctively pulled the scarf around his neck to cover part of his face.

Winter in Tokyo was cold, but here waiting in a deserted station was a worse experience.

Taki glanced at the direction of the train tracks and frowned, he had been waiting for near half-an-hour. Trains in Tokyo arrived in minutes, always on time and consistent. Even if it was usually cramped and suffocating, it would've been better than sitting on a bench with constant sea breeze chipping away his life force.

Taki tilted his head to look at faraway looming mountains and puffed a warm breath as a small smile came to his face. He was near.

Itomori was a faraway town from Tokyo, surrounded loosely by many mountains. Right now, he was forced to take several trains to arrive his destination, where he would pass the night in an inn before continuing with his journey.

He used the same route he and senpai and Tsukasa took when they visited the first time, getting lost sometimes as the memories of the last visit was nothing more than blurry images.

 _It was as if something was making them blurry._

But he took pleasure in traveling as he wasn't in a hurry, asking people for directions and sometimes chatting with them. It was until yesterday that he had met with a former inhabitant of Itomori Town, much to his surprise.

"You were from Itomori Town? Really?" he eagerly asked the elderly who was sitting on the bench with him in a park.

He had found this lone man in this desolated park, basking in the warm sunlight as he gazed up the clear blue sky as if recalling a distant memory. There was something special with this elder that set him different from the other people he had chatted.

"Oh yes, lived in there for nearly six decades, planned to live there until the end of my life. But well, the damn comet just had to land in our home. You know how life works," Taki noticed that the man had shown his prosthesis leg for the world to see.

Taki turned a second too later, the man noticed his gaze at his prosthesis leg. But instead of frowning or scowling, he laughed, "lost my leg during the world war. Badly burnt when an explosion blew up way too close. Had to cut it off, and that was without any painkillers. I think I fainted half-way through the surgery."

That… wasn't pleasant at all, not the least.

"Can you tell me about Itomori? I heard that it was a pleasant countryside town before the comet came," he deliberately changed the subject, the elder glanced at him before returning back to gaze at the sky.

"Why would you want to know? People these days never bother asking."

"I'm just curious, and I'd always wanted to visit the town," he said, a smile appeared on his face, "I heard that it had a very beautiful scenery. And that people there treated one another like their own."

The elderly man stared at him, scrutinizing him with gray dull eyes. At last, what seemed like forever, he puffed.

"Well, I guess it would be nice to refresh my memories once a while," he touched his chin, "it's a pretty big place for such little people. They used to have a park just outside my home, pretty similar to the one we are at. And I will go spend my day there chatting with the others, old friends and energetic kids alike. Pretty relaxing times of a bunch of elderlies enjoying their remaining days."

 _A flash, a park filled with bustling kids and elderlies, interacting with one another. They seemed content._

"There was this stair that used to abuse my legs, always took me nearly twenty minutes to get to the top, but luckily some of the kids and teenagers will help. Kind and helpful kids, they were like 'grandpa Yasuke, do you need help?'. Those puppy eyes of theirs would be my death one day, that I'm sure," Yasuke the elderly grinned crookedly, "adorable kids, almost wanted to kidnap a few back my home and adopt them."

 _Another flash, a long and steep slope of stairs with red worn out railings, school kids climbing the stairs to reach their homes._

"Any place in the town that symbolized Itomori as a whole?" he asked, not noticing how dry his throat had gotten.

"A place that symbolized Itomori? Most of the people would say the Itomori Lake, but I say the Miyamizu Shrine," Yasuke said, "the younger ones never appreciate Itomori's long passed traditions, always had their mind set on modernization. We were pretty damn close to being renovated with that mayor of ours."

"Yasuke-san, the shrine?"

"Right. Sorry, off topic again was I?" Taki nodded, "anyways, Miyamizu Shrine, nice and pretty place. Red gates at the entrance, one of the only traditional Japanese buildings we had in town. A stage for performances and shrine dances. A pretty ordinary shrine that's quite common in Japan."

 _Miyamizu shrine, high above the mountain on top of sets of stairs, blessed by the local guardian._

Taki's heart throbbed.

"The shrine was owned by the Miyamizu family for generations, performing on every festival, Hitoha the old bat was persistent about keeping the tradition going. They had this workshop in their house, making strings and laces for offerings and for their dances. Very beautiful little things they had made. I still have a couple of their strings back at home."

 _A kind smile, the elderly woman slowly knitting strings with a content look on her face._

His mouth opened but no word came out. His head stung as if punched.

"Then there's the two granddaughters of hers, always performing on their grandmother's behalf on weekend nights. Poor girls never had the chance to choose to be youthful. To make it worse, their father was the mayor the of town, so literally their arms were tied behind their back all the time."

 _A young familiar face, dressed in a shrine maiden's outfit, complaining about how long and annoying the sleeves were, whining as a hand messed with her hair._

Taki's throat felt sore as he struggled a deep breath.

"But that aside, the two danced well, just like their mother," Yasuke pondered, "ha! now I remember! Quite amusing to watch actually. They used to make some sort of sake- _kuchikamizake_ if I remember correctly, the youngsters were disgusted when they chew rice and spit it out to make the sake. Immature brats, never understood the beauty of traditions," Yasuke paused, looking back up the sky as he rubbed his stubble chin in deep thought, "hmm, I wonder where they are right now, probably somewhere in Tokyo, or Kyoto. The elder daughter had always whined about going to a big bustling city."

 _A girl, shedding tears as she smiled sadly, she lips parted as she whispered something, something important, something he must not forget. What was it?_

He waited for Yasuke to continue. But after a while he noticed that he had kept his silence for way too long for a rambling old man. He turned to gaze at Yasuke, and found wise gray eyes staring back at him.

"What?" his throat was annoyingly dry and his voice was awkwardly high-pitched.

"You're crying," he replied flatly.

Taki felt his cheeks wet and his tongue tasted something salty. He glanced back down at his hand and noticed droplets of tears gathered a small pool in his palm.

The boy chuckled weakly, sighing in defeat, still gazing at the tears gathered in his hand, "I guess I have been crying a lot recently," he watched as tears leaking through the cracks between his fingers, "worse part is, I don't even know what I am crying over, what I am getting sad about. I don't know, does that weird to you?"

A bag of tissue was offered to him, Yasuke was smiling sadly, his age truly showing for the first time, "clean your tears up, kid, us men don't cry often."

Taki eyed the appendage and gingerly took it from the man's grip. Under the man's wise gaze, Taki felt no embarrassment as he cleaned his face free from tears, but he was slightly frustrated that the tears would not stop. Taki took another tissue from the bag.

"You want to hear a couple words of wisdom from this weary, old man?" Yasuke offered.

Taki chuckled and nodded. The tissues damp in his hand as it soaked up tears like a sponge.

"The last time I cry was four years ago," realization dawned on Taki, "yes, it was when Itomori was destroyed by the meteor."

"But you lived." At this, Yasuke scoffed.

"Don't get me wrong, it was god's blessing that we all have survived, but my home was destroyed, everything I treasured and the memories my wife left me were all gone because of that damn meteor splitting in half." Yasuke said, "I was furious when I knew that people across the globe were rejoicing and enjoying the view while our hometown was demolished and us people nearly died." Taki looked away, he was one of those people.

"That night, when the comet hit our town, I grieved harder than I grieved in the world war. Can you imagine, all the things you had established, all the memories that you had gathered, all gone in a single day?"

Taki shook his head. Yasuke smiled sadly, the wrinkles on his face curled up, "be glad you haven't experienced what I had been through. Of course, like anyone would, I manage to cope with my grief."

"My father told me that holding in your emotions is unhealthy."

"Then your father is a wise man," Yasuke smiled, "I let all my emotions out instead of how others would bottle them down and hope to forget them. I cried my throat hoarse, my son and his wife was so concerned that they asked if I need to go to the hospital or go see a therapist. But the next day I felt a hell lot better, and I was ready to move on with my life."

"Taki, you are young, and you might not know it yet, but you are still suppressing your emotions, and look what that have done to you," he pointed at Taki's eyes and gestured at his pale skin.

That Taki didn't reply immediately. He would be lying if he said he wasn't containing his grief.

Something was holding him back, preventing his raging sadness and emotions from lashing. It had something to do with the missing piece in him like his father had said, it was the key to the chain that held back his feelings.

And so, Taki did not deny the wise elder's statement, and instead replied with a resigned smile, "I know, and that's why I'm here." Searching, he had been always searching for truth, for something, for someone, "I would like to think, that when I have finally found what I am looking for, I would finally be free, and move forward in my life."

Yasuke listened attentively, eyes so wise and sharp.

The park descended into a relaxing silence which Taki found comfort in. For a moment, everything felt so peaceful.

"It will be a difficult path to tread on, son. Full of thorns and twists and turns," the elder said.

Taki's lips curled, something that Yasuke internally frowned; he was so young and had much to learn, yet that _smile_ he wore…

"I know, but even so, that's a path I will take," Taki said, "because I don't think I can live with this emptiness any longer."

 _Because I promised her, that wherever she may end up in this world, I will be searching for her._

* * *

Taki met the ramen chef when he was searching for a place to eat after settling in another inn, and he was glad to see the married couple again.

He ordered a bowl of ramen, the chef grunted as he went into the kitchen to prepare the noodles. His wife, however, sat across Taki and they chatted.

She was a pleasant woman, almost a motherly figure Taki had greatly missed. They talked about his life in Tokyo, about his high school and his friends, of his part-time job and his colleagues.

"Maa, I am jealous of your life in Japan," the wife said pleasantly.

 _I'm so jealous of you! Living in a big city! To be able to live freely! I'm tired of my town!_

Taki gritted his teeth behind his thinned lips as he felt his heart tightened.

"Yeah, I guess so…"

"Are you feeling okay? You look kind of pale..." she furrowed her brows, expressing her concerns.

"I'm fine, just a bit under the weather, I'll be fresh after a good night's sleep."

"Are you sure? I think you should go see a doctor..." Taki wanted to groan. _Stop pressing the matter please._

"One miso ramen coming up," the chef appeared by their table and slid the bowl across the surface, "here you go."

"Thank you," _for saving me from your mother hen of a wife,_ he thought internally as he snapped the wooden chopsticks to half, "itadakimatsu."

The restaurant was devoid of customers and was relatively vacant. Taki was unsurprised. After all, the nearest town was a ten-minute bus ride away.

"So, boy, what are you here for, not for our ramen I suppose?" the chef asked when he was half way done with his food.

Taki smiled slightly, "unfortunately, no, I need going to Itomori again."

The couple blinked as they stared at each other in unison. The wife asked, "why are you going to Itomori? It's off-limits. Is it a part of your homework project?" the chef was quirking an eyebrow as he gazed at Taki with arms crossed.

"Last time it was because of an obsession," the boy was silent for a few seconds, and gave the same answer he had given his father and the elderly in the park, "but this time it's for a different purpose. I'm searching for something."

"Searching for what? There's nothing but wreckage there. No offence, dear," the woman ignored her husband's pointed stare.

Once again, the boy gave him the same longing smile that just made him felt so _weary and sad_ , "I don't know, I'm just following a hunch, but what I do know is that it is something important, and that I would not leave until I found what I am searching for there."

The couple glanced at one another with uncertainty in sync. They didn't further question Taki about what he meant.

"You need to hitch a ride? Kid," the man asked, "it's a long walk from here to there."

Taki didn't bother to conceal his surprise, last time the chef gave him a ride he was less than pleased, bordering on annoyance. He would understand if his wife forces him to give him a ride, but for him to take the initiative and offer Taki was something he certainly had not expected.

"I don't want to bother you," Taki said truthfully, ramen now forgotten as he set it aside on the table.

"You don't need to worry about bothering me, kid. I just happen to want to see my born place again. Just shut up and take the offer," the hard glint in the man's eyes and the beaming smile his wife sent him left Taki no choice but to accept.

"I… thank you," he didn't know what came over him, but the next Taki was bowing over the table, forehead pressed against the wooden surface.

He owed the two much, and he felt the need to returning something to the couple.

"Actually," he removed his head from the table and fumbled with his backpack, he found it folded neatly in a pile, "I want to give you this. Consider this a gift."

In his hand was a sketch of Itomori, overlooking the whole town from its perspective. Taki believed that gifting this to the man would stir his memories a bit and remember his times in his hometown.

The wife took the sketch from his grip and blinked in surprise, "it's more detailed than I last remember."

The husband plucked the piece of paper from his wife's fingers and studied it carefully, "you're right, the positioning of the houses was more precise than the sketch you last showed us, and you have the right number of windows of the church. How do you know?"

Taki scratched the side of his head as he said, "someone told me, you might even know him. His name is Yasuke."

The husband blinked, "Yasuke? Yasuke Mochinoha? He's still around?"

"You actually know Yasuke-san?"

"Everyone in Itomori knew of him. He took care of me when I was your age, kids looked for him when they need counseling. He's like the grandfather of all the kids in town," a rare smile appeared on the chef's face, "where did you meet him?"

The boy glanced out the window, and pointed, "pretty nearby, actually, I think it's the town there. Twenty-minute bus ride."

The chef barked a laugh as he wrapped an arm around his wife's waist, "ha! what a small world we are living in, never thought that the old man would still be alive and kicking."

"I want to see him, he sounded like a pleasant man," his wife leaned into the chef's touch, eyes still lingering on Taki's drawing after she snatched it back from her husband.

"Oh, we will," the man glanced at the boy staring idly out the window at the setting sun, "after I get the brat to the place."

* * *

The next day Taki woke early, more energized than he had felt in a long time, was it because he was finally going to Itomori after a year? Or was it because he was extremely close the answers he was searching for?

Taki turned on his phone and clicked on his diary app. Today would mark the sixth day of his journey. He did keep his habit of writing his journal, and quickly typing a few sentences on his phone.

 _Rule 1: Don't fondle my breasts! Rule 2: Don't shower whenever you embody me!_

His fingers froze mid-type. This was painfully familiar, and here it came again, the wave of sadness.

Taki sniffed as he furiously rubbed his eyes, getting rid of the excess wetness dwelling in the corner of his eyes.

 _Deep breaths, don't break down, deep breaths, deep breaths._

The raging emotions settled and Taki sighed in relief at being in control of his emotions, it was too early for another episode.

8 o'clock sharp, he was already down his inn getting himself checked out, slowly making his way to the parking lot to wait for his convenient ride.

Today was stupidly cold, even with another three layers behind his coat, Taki couldn't help shiver as another cold winter breeze ruffled his hair.

Luckily for him, he didn't need to wait long.

The faint sound of tires against the pavement caught Taki's attention, and the boy hoisted the backpack as the van skidded to a stop in front of him. He greeted the chef with an earnest smile.

After almost a year had passed since he last visited Itomori Town.

That day, something happened. It was both beautiful and sad, and questions were made.

Today, something would happen. It would be as beautiful as it would be sad, and some questions would finally be answered.

And maybe, the truth would be uncovered and unravel when the time comes.

* * *

12/29/2016: Did some minor changes, alter some of the dialogues so it won't sound so strange and weird. Added something in those as well, but nothing major, the plot stays the same.


	2. Off to the School He goes

Itomori Town.

It was a beautiful town. A small civilization that was established around a circular lake, sacred as if blessed by the gods. The ideal haven for many people, both the young and the old. For generations, it had existed. For centuries, it had done good deeds for its people.

The clean water surface reflected the glow of the orange-tinted sky during the breaking of dawn. Plain houses and buildings that were built around the lake, both traditional and modern styles, helped create a spectacular and memorable landscape.

Quiet and peaceful it used to be, people with sharp sensitive ears would not be hard pressed to hear the chirping of birds or the rustlings of surrounding trees in the woods.

And of course, its locals. They treated one another like a friend, like a family. There was this connection that linked them together. It made them inseparable during the hardest times. And when were dire for help, no one would hesitate to lend an offering hand. Such was the people of Itomori, those favored by the gods. As humans, they were a part of the town.

Simply speaking, it was a town of nature, unharmed by human pollution. Slightly bustling as its resident performed their daily duties.

But that's not what he saw when stood by the railings of the abandoned high school, eyes upon the wreckage once known as Itomori. It was nothing like the pictures the website had shown him, a far cry from the magnificent town it used to be.

Trees were uprooted, thick trunks snapped in half as if it was nothing but mere twigs. Buildings that used to house the thousand inhabitants of Itomori Town were destroyed and tossed aside like broken toys. The lake, once glistening and clear as crystal, was now murky with filth and defiled by litter.

And it was hollow of humans, of any living beings. As far as his eyes could see, there wasn't a moving object.

Where it once was peaceful, was now a desolated silence, wrecked and ruined beyond recognition.

Needless to say, it pained him significantly that the town he grew quite obsessed with was now in scraps and pieces, never to be rebuilt again. A part of his heart bled ichor as he took in the sight in silence, knuckles gripped the railings until they turn white. Throughout it all, he was trying to uphold an impassive expression, to keep a strong image, to keep the lump from forming in his throat. He sighed miserably.

The chef stood beside him, smoking a cigarette as he watched the rising sun in the horizon. Lips tightened into a grimace, his dull eyes reflected no shine from the lights.

Even as the elder male appeared to be indifferent to the destruction of his born place, internally he was probably mourning secretly, Taki could discern that from the stress lines visible on his forehead. The distant look in his eyes confirmed that he was in fact in deep thoughts, not to be disturbed.

The two stood rigidly as what was once Itomori Town basked in the morning rays of the sun.

Taki realized with a start, that the tragic fate the ruined town Itomori was destined.

It had offered much to the residents. It gave them homes, food, and unforgettable memories. And yet, in the end, it was given a fated destruction, wiped out from the face of the earth.

At that, Taki thought that if gods do exist high above, they would cruel beings. Itomori had done nothing but serve fleeting locals when they built the town, and for hundreds of years, it had provided shelter for the homeless and desperate ones.

But even so, after all that, a comet came, trailing across the sky, painting it with kaleidoscopic colors. It was beautiful, even as it struck down Itomori from the heavens.

Even when Itomori no longer exists, it would still lived on, in the heart of residents, and in Taki's heart. Its tale would carry on from father to son, mother to daughter. He had no doubt that it would live on, forever and ever.

Taki sighed, running a hand across his face, rubbing his eyes in the process, hoping to get rid of the somnolence.

Far and beyond, despite the devastation far down below, the weather was in great condition, much to his bemusement.

Snowy white clouds drifted swiftly across the clear and bright sky, engulfed in complete silence without any noises, eagles circling high above with lazy grace. And then there's the sun, without any obscuration from any non-existing skyscrapers, it was dazzling. Those were something Tokyo could never hope to achieve even on its best days.

The chef shifted beside him and gave a weary and heavy sigh, and Taki's attention was diverted.

"It's been so long," the man drawled, a bitter smile appeared on his face, "almost twenty-three years. But those memories are still fresh in my mind."

He kept his silence. When it dragged on, as it became a little bit unbearable, he noticed that the chef wasn't continuing. Swallowing, he broke it hesitantly.

"Of Itomori?" he asked quietly. And the chef nodded.

"Yes, mostly childhood memories, both the good and the bad, but mostly the bad," the chef replied, "you know, I was thinking of returning to enjoy the Autumn Festival with my wife, but we were busy that day, and decided to hold back to wait for the next year," he snorted, "but now we'll never have the chance."

Taki had no good reply to this. Never converse about a sour subject, that would be an insensitive action. He decided to change the subject to something harmless, something that they would have no problem talking about.

"Actually, I've been wanting to ask," meekly the boy said, try not to sound meddling, "how old were you when you left Itomori?"

"Why don't you try guessing?" again with that irritating tone that made Taki's eyebrows twitch.

"Uh… I don't know, high school?" He humored the chef, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

The chef snorted again, apparently finding the answer amusing, "not quite, I quit high school during my second year after my parents died in a car accident."

Taki winced.

The chef ignored the look Taki shot at him, "don't give me that look, it was a long time ago," he huffed.

"Ah… right, sorry," Taki licked his lips, so much for changing the subject. "So, after you left, where did you go to?"

"Tokyo. Heard that it treated the young generations well. Decided to try my luck there."

"Tokyo?" Taki repeated, surprised as he met the chef's gaze.

"Yeah, Tokyo," the chef questioned, eyebrows arched, "what's wrong with Tokyo?"

"Nothing," eyes strayed upwards to the blue sky, Taki scratched the back of his head, "it's just that I'm from Tokyo, and that's surprising… I guess?" the man met his words with a deadpan stare, as though asking 'do I look like I care?'

Taki had the decency to blush, "sorry, please continue."

The chef scoffed, then his lips curved into a good-natured grin, "anyways, I moved to Tokyo, hope that I would find a decent job there. Was pretty hard getting used to a city's life the first few weeks. Got rejected a few times in job interviews, some bull about never went to a college nor finished high school."

"But eventually became a bartender in a pub, satisfactory salary, and a small and comfy apartment to live in. At that time, that was all I asked for," his voice was muffled as he took another drag from his cigarette.

"And yet you are here, serving ramen in the countryside. Why's that?" He didn't realize how rude he sounded until the words left his mouth. There was a sudden urge to smack himself in the head for his stupidity. But the man didn't seem quite offended, instead shot a why-are-you-asking-so-much look at Taki. He managed to force a sheepish smile.

It wasn't like that he could help it; after talking to a handful of people during this trip, he had grown on the role of a listener. He never knew it until recently, but it was a rather enjoyable experience listening to the elders talking about their past, their words of wisdom and advice did more than widening his horizons. They are wise because they speak from experience.

They were pleasant also to talk to, once you get used to how often they went off-topic or their frequent nonsense rambles.

It had changed his opinions of the elderly bunch immensely.

The chef grunted in vexation, but nonetheless continued.

He inhaled a breath deeply from his cigarette, "I guess since I'm born in the countryside, a life in the city never fits me, so damn noisy and crowded," the man caressed his stubbles, "so, the moment I earned myself enough wealth, I went here. And of all the things I could've done, I opened a ramen stand."

"…"

He gave a throaty chortled at Taki's dumbfounded look, "It isn't as bad as it sounded, it's quite fulfilling actually. Not to mention cooking was rather fun as well," he smiled broadly, "and I guess somewhere along the lines I met my wife. A few years later we decided it was time to settle down."

"Never regret it. Simple and peaceful, that's the life I've always wanted to live in. Unlike you city brats."

This time Taki could help but laugh at the jab, a genuine one, a lively bark of laughter. Strangely, he felt like he could open up to this man a bit.

"…that I can relate, I think," folding his arms under his head, staring almost nostalgically at the rising sun, Taki mused, "I've always wanted to live in a peaceful and quiet place. Admittedly, Tokyo is a bit too fast-paced for me. Everything just seems to move so fast. A moment I was in elementary school still learning English from the alphabet soup, the next I'm in my final years in high school."

"School is overrated, what you learned back then doesn't really matter when you are out there livin'."

"That, I agree."

And thus, signaling the end of their little talk. They settled in calm silence as they continued to watch over Itomori Town.

It's been a long time since Taki felt himself at ease, all the piled tension that had stacked up upon his shoulders slid off like water on a duck's back. He felt lighter, his mind was clearer, and a pleased smile was etched on his face.

A year ago, it was hellish. Buried under piles of work, he was either rushing through his studies, preparing for exams, or working furiously in his part-time job in that Italian restaurant. The pressure kept building up on his shoulders and he barely had time to rest.

A few strands of white hair had grown out, but he kept them since it reminded him of the sweat and effort he had put in his high school, that and because he found it cool as it made an interesting contrast with his dark brown hair.

To lessen his burden and allowing more time for his studies, he quitted his job. No tears were shed though as he promised the manager that he will return shortly after the exam the moment he was a freeman. It wasn't like that he was desperate for money, since he didn't go to the café as often than he used before.

He still frequently met up with Okudera-senpai for tea or just to chat. Now that his little crush had subdued and distinguished, talking to her became a lot easier than it used to. And admittedly, laughing at her jokes or misfortunate tales were excellent stress relief.

But the pressure still lingered, existing deep down his bones, often piling at a faster rate than they were released. It was taxing to his body and mentality, and regularly he would find himself in need of a nap as drowsiness overcame him.

Right now, at this moment, that frustrating hollowness in his chest had subsided, and the burden was lifted off his back if only briefly.

"Freedom~" he sang slothfully, uncaring of the weird look the chef tossed at him.

A ray of sunlight glared at his face, turning his vision white momentarily. Taki groaned and blinked furiously, shielding the light with his free hand. Blinding shines it radiated aside, he thought the warmth from the sun was cozy and comfortable, a nice contrast with the refreshment the cool morning air offered.

An eased smile formed on his face, gratifying and relaxing.

Taki wasn't aware how much time passed, but the next he when he was aware of his surroundings was when a phone rang, disturbing the comforting silence that he secretly hoped would last.

The chef, who he still hadn't bother asking for his name, fumbled with his jacket pocket and fished out his phone. Oblivious to Taki's open stare, the chef flipped open the lid of his phone and fiddled with it, bushy eyebrows raised at its content.

"Hm, time sure flies…" he muttered before returning his phone back to his pocket. He turned to Taki, "look kid, I need to go now. I'll be picking you up some time at seven, give or take half-an-hour depending the rush hour."

Taki nodded, the guilt of towing the man in his troubles rose again. And considering that one day might not be enough for him to be thoroughly done with Itomori, he might need a couple more rides.

"I'm really sorry for causing you extra burden," the courtesy underlying in his tone was clear as day.

Though the chef didn't show it, Taki knew he was secretly pleased with the respect he gotten out from him, the glint in his eyes was the proof of that.

"Whatever, just don't get lost out there, call me if you need our help. We only respond to urgent calls, so don't call me for a spare pair of pants if you pissed yourself."

Taki contained his laugh at the joke. And as the laughter subsided, he replied with his most grateful and earnest voice, "I will, thanks."

The chef nodded briskly, then he turned and walked away. The cigarette was discarded on the ground with a flick of his wrist, and proceeded to crush it under his heel as he left for his van.

It was through the crunching of the man's shoes on the gravel and the soft noise of engines being lighted, Taki knew that the man was gone the next time he turned around. In the distance, the van disappeared behind a steep hill, and only two tire trail remained on the dirt path.

Now it was just him and Itomori Town, anticipation welled up, he wet his lips.

* * *

Taki glanced at his side at the abandoned school grounds, where a subtle link could be felt as he took in the appearance of the worn out and vacant building. Weak and flickering, it was still a link.

Inexplicably, there was this drawing force that seemed to pull him towards the building, as if something inside was calling for him, demanding his presence. And strangely, he complied, all uncertainty was irrelevant as he found himself walking towards the school at a sedated pace. He moved in trance-like movements, almost like his body was moving on its own.

Though he would admit, he was a bit creeped out at the building's appearance. From the deteriorating paint of the school walls to the small but visible cracked fissure in the pillars, this school was just like one of the haunted schools straight out from those horror movies.

But still, he steeled his resolve. That was a silly and petty fear, like how children were afraid to visit the cemetery or a journey to a haunted house. The desire to fill the emptiness within him was simply stronger, it was his top priority now, more important than anything.

He took a stroll around the school grounds in a circle, absorbing the exterior of the school into his mind, and noted with surprise how medium-sized the school was.

It made sense actually, while this was the only high school around the area, the total population of Itomori residents were about a thousand, the teenagers took about a fifth or a sixth of that number. So as there were only about two hundred students that went to the school, there's no need for a huge building to contain such small number of students.

Twirling a stone he picked from the ground in his pocket to ease the trembling of his fingers. Was it from anxiety or excitement, he didn't know.

Then, he stopped by a lone tree standing on a patch of greenfield, indolently letting his mind wander, where his thoughts disappeared as soon as they appeared.

Taki surveyed his surroundings, a couple chairs and desks here and there, covered in dirt and moss. Their existence was forgotten and now they were left to rot. A sad fate that they were destined, never able to fulfill their purpose they were created for.

 _A group of teenage friends, enjoying their lunch under the shade while chatting happily._

Absent-mindedly, he swatted some dust off the surface of a dust-filled table and dropped his heavy bag on it with a thud.

A sudden wave of fatigue crashed down on him as the heaviness left him. Unable to control himself, he yawned loudly, bones gave satisfying pops as he stretched afterward. He rolled his shoulders to loosen his muscles, tense and sore from carrying the weighty bag.

"Right," he stifled another inevitable yawn, "time to do some exploring." He unzipped the travel bag and grabbed his flashlight and a bottle of water, and left it open as he turned to approach the empty facility.

Mid-way he patted the bulge on his coat to confirm the presence of the sketches he brought from home. He'd never know when if he would need it later.

As Taki came close to the 'do not approach— off-limits!" tags, he ignored them completely as if it was never there, and stepped over the tape without any hesitation, without a care in the world. He breathed a snort, as if he would let it stop him now that he was this close.

The pull he felt from the school grew stronger with every step he took, almost like it had its own gravitational force, pulling Taki towards the core.

Now that he was a lot closer, he took a more detailed examination of the school, and grimaced at its terrible state. The shockwave the comet caused must had been ridiculously strong to have affected the school even as its crash site was miles away.

Though even if the school appeared to be on the verge of falling apart, he doubted that it really would. Buildings in Japan were built to withstand earthquakes, often tougher than they appeared to be. But still, it wouldn't hurt to be careful.

When Taki stepped through the school entrance, mindful of the trash and sharp shards scattered across the floor, he was promptly faced with rows of old and grubby lockers.

Some were left open upon closer inspection, containing items and properties of students; indoor shoes, sports uniform, a couple useless scraps of papers. The leftovers.

 _Students came filling in faster than they left for their classroom, crowding the tight place with teenagers, tittering with fellow schoolmates as they changed their shoes for indoor ones._

Blinking, Taki went over to one of the lockers and brushed his hand across the dull surface, and rubbed his fingers together to get rid of the hair-thin layer of dust he gathered.

A wave of familiarity strike him the way the cool metal had greeted his touch, it left a prickling sensation as his fingers left the surface. It glinted dully under a stray ray of sunlight, as though welcoming the return of a young friend.

He shook his head to clear the strange thoughts. He was overthinking it again.

That aside, he could deduce from the condition of the lockers, that the school had been abandoned for a long time since the comet hit, and that it never got its maintenance during that timeframe. That was good, it means no one would be here to interrupt him, or arrest him for trespassing restricted area.

He turned away from the lockers to the corridors. And throughout the silence hallway, only the faint thumping of his footsteps echoed with steady regularity.

He didn't know the layout of the school, and let his legs carry wherever it felt he needed to go, where he must go.

He passed the infirmary without a pause, without sparing a glance, and kept a consistent speed as he strolled down the hallway, eyes darting from side to side as he took in the surroundings with his sharp eyes.

It wasn't filthy nor utterly disgusting like a sewer per se, but its untidiness certainly reached a new level.

Every step he took he needed to be careful not stepping on shards of glass or other junk, evading ponds of liquid that had pooled on the floor like they were explosive land mines. Once ducking his head to dodged the lamp that was suspended in midair by its wires, and taking the long way around to avoid the large caved-in fracture in the floor.

It was like walking through a war zone, minus the bullet holes or scorch marks. The entire time he was traversing the corridor to reach the other end, he was burning through his limited source of concentration and focus.

And it sure did take him a long time to waddle his way through the sea of trash, and another extra while for him to find a case of stairs in this labyrinth of a school, hopefully leading to the second floor.

* * *

From there onwards Taki proceeded with light and silent steps, barely audible to his keen ears.

It was after his terrific climb of the frailest case of stairs he knew the true importance of caution. He was not exaggerating when he said he feared for his life back then, especially when the concrete under his shoe actually cracked when he put his weight on a particular stair step.

His heart nearly jumped out his throat back then. Taki shuddered at the horrifying memory, and returned back to his task: walking down the corridor.

The sea of broken glass shards and wood splinters were not making navigating through this corridor any easier to his irritation. He almost snarled as a splinter from a broken chair hooked his trousers, he yanked it away harshly, not caring if it would damage the cloth.

Eventually, with more effort than it was necessary, Taki made it to the other side of the trash pile.

A growl of annoyance was inevitable when he caught sight of his shoes. The sole his sports shoe was covered in dirt. Patches and spots of filth and oil scattered across the cotton fabric of his pants, wet and cold it latched on his skin.

He was lucky he brought a spare pair of clothes. He thanked his father for reminding him to take spares. He wasn't sure if the chef would let him in the car if he was all filthy and dirty.

Soon, he was moving again after gulping down mouthfuls of water, stopping at times when he had to pause to take in particular details of the school, observing the environment around him attentively.

Strange, it was strange. The sense of familiarity struck him like none other. The first time he laid his eyes on the school, he felt like he had seen it from somewhere. The moment he stepped in the entrance, he felt like he had been here before.

Every time he stared at a closed door, it was like he knew what to expect behind the thin board of wood. Let it be a classroom, the music room, the staff room, the janitor reserved area, he always seemed to have a faint idea what was behind each and every door.

It was like he knew this school as well as his school back in Tokyo.

As soon as he mulled over the fact did he caught sight of the sign of a room. He stopped abruptly, eyes blinking at the bold words imprinted on the piece of plastic. It did a splendid job capturing his attention.

The art room. Interest grabbed hold his mind as the artistic blood in his veins flared and dominated. An alluring aura made him itch to know what laid in the room, tempting him.

The teen placed a hand on his chin as he walked closer to the room. Throughout all those years, he had quite grown to appreciate the artworks other people made, drenched with sweat and effort, created with unthinkable theories.

It was the seeds of creative ideas, outrageous proposals, precise and calculated thoughts, all in the form of a piece of paper, in the form of a model. Be it a tiny statue made of clay, a sketch roughly drawn with quick and experienced hands, or a crayon drawing of monstrosity by some baby. They were art, made uniquely, never able to be imitated perfectly.

With ideas bloomed more ideas, always improving, constantly moving forward in wide and confident strides. Designs that never ever fail to be better than the last ones. Adapting, developing, growing, and transforming. That is the nature of humanity, that is art. It was what makes people humans, capable of acting on their own will.

Taki's life was surrounded by sketches and drawings, and it goes without saying that they were what made him the teen today.

He shrugged. Who knows? Perhaps the artworks of the resident of Itomori might just provide him what he needed. Taki supposed it wouldn't hurt to take a small peek.

He tried slid the door open, and frowned as the door refused to budge stubbornly, was it stuck? It certainly wasn't locked, since there were no visible keyholes on the door. Maybe some debris got under the crack between the floor and the door and messed with the wheels?

The wooden frame of the door was already frail to begin with, so he supposed he could break in if he used brute force. Property damages, not that anyone would care if it was on a desolated school that had been abandoned for ages. He gave a mild laugh as he prepared to reenact the common scene from many action movies.

Squaring his shoulders, he slammed his hands on the door, feeling it shudder as the wood groaned. Another kick and it caved it with a sharp snap, making him wince from the unexpected loudness. He stepped over the fragments as he entered the room, rubbing his stinging palms together gingerly.

The room was thoroughly trashed, not that Taki was expecting anything different.

Desks piled in a corner and chairs missing a leg or two. Windows were broken no doubt due to the shockwave of the comet's landing, allowing passage for the wind to slip through. It ruffled with pieces of newspaper and sketches, sending them all over the floor. Some fortunate artworks survived as they were stuck on the wall with a nail, it contained works of painting, sketches, designs and a couple messy notes.

Most of the drawers were opened, all its content was likely taken away by the people of Itomori when they left their destroyed town, though a few stray paint brushes and pencils left untouched. There were also a few tools on the bench as well, but most were broken beyond repairable, discarded and untouched.

But aside from that, it was somewhat unoccupied art room contrary to the one in Taki's high school. Since he did not see any student-made statue of some naked man or enormous unfinished artworks sitting in the room, it felt hollow and empty, which was a bit of a letdown.

But there was a wall pinned with a dozen pieces of papers, colorless sketches and paintings alike.

Taki leaned near some portrait, of a faceless student in a sitting position, and studied it closely as he took in the smooth curves and delicate details. "Not bad… though the head is a bit too big for my liking…" he criticized, "but I like the elbows though, very naturally drawn…"

Something lingered in the air, the teen noticed after he finished observing the third drawing. He tilted his head and sniffed, expecting the odor of rotting paint past its expiration date, but he smelled nothing to his confusion.

It was flavorless and colorless and untouchable, it wasn't even a smell, nonexistent. Yet weightlessly it dwelled in the air, giving out a certain presence. He felt it, saturated in the very air around him like a heavy mist, swirling and coiling around his body like a snake.

 _The snickers were getting on his nerves. He had always hated bullies. He reached a leg out and placed the heel of his shoe on a nearby table, the applied force caused the table to topple. A pleased and smug smirk came to his face as the room descended into stunned silence._

A melancholy sensation tugged at his chest, and something unexplainable wormed itself into the deepest bit of his subconscious. As soon as it appeared, it scattered and vanished, leaving nothing but a fleeting feeling.

"That was weird," Taki muttered as he tugged at his collar, feeling unbearably hot abruptly.

A particular sketch caught his gaze. Resulting him to walk over to the other side of the wall, removing the pin from said sketch and inspected it with a critical eye.

It wasn't a portrait like the others in that section of the wall, but a drawing of a scenery, detailed and precise. Of a ring of houses surrounding a circular lake.

"That's some nice drawing here. Isn't this Itomori?" Indeed, it was a sketch of said town before it was in ruins, drawn with incredible dedication.

Then, he frowned. He leaned in closer for a better look, at the lines, at the structure, at the sketch as a whole. Was it just him, but didn't this seemed a bit familiar?

The lines were sharp and curved around the end of each carefully drawn strokes, the barely visible arching lines representing the mountains were drawn with surprising lightness.

There was a certain flexibility in this drawing that made him raised an eyebrow. It was then it occurred to him that the style was very similar to his.

"Sketchy…" he muttered to himself, eyeing the formation of houses in awe.

The longer he stared at the sketch, the more familiar it seemed to him. He could be imagining it, but the way the church was drawn, the lake was illustrated, the shadings that were traced…

The quirks he discovered greatly resembled his own drawings, almost like an exact copy.

But, it could've been easily explained as a coincident, far from impossible. For example, someone once in this high school had a very similar drawing style and habit as himself was feasible, what else?

However, deep down, underneath all the logical explanations, he felt that this was not fortuity of pure chance, but of something else. This sketch, beautiful and flawless as it was, carried more than its appearance suggested.

With a firm nod of his head, he deemed it a valuable asset and considered worthy of investigating. He folded it neatly and stuffed it unceremoniously into his jeans pocket while stepping out the room. He would study it as soon as he returns to his inn later.

* * *

Taki walked in a random room directly across the art room, whose door was conveniently opened. The smell of old and aged wood greeted him like an autumn breeze, washing over face and engulfed his form. He hummed as he closed the door behind him, breathing deeply in the scent of the classroom.

His eyes opened as he inspected the room lazily.

Again, it was messy and unorganized, a though the desks were still roughly in rows with chairs pushed behind them, a slight improvement.

The blackboard was scribed with English sentences that were half rubbed off. A pile of books sitting on the teacher's desk, untouched as they waited to be picked up by their rightful proprietary. The curtains swayed as the wind blew in from the open windows.

A rather lonely scenery. An empty classroom that could no longer provide knowledge for the younger generations, deserted and abandoned it would remain for the rest of its eternity.

An irresistible urge overcame him and he neared a random student desk, the desire to take something home from Itomori, a reminder of this incredible and crazy trip.

Gripping the slightly frayed edges of the table he bent down to see if there were any property he could scavenge in the drawer, the corner of his lips curved up as he guessed right.

He reached in and fumbled with its content. The action winded up dust and made Taki sneezed and cough.

It wasn't until he managed to grab a notebook from the now messy pile did he stop holding his breath. Gasping for air, he retracted his arm out from the drawer, together with the thin book in tow.

Quickly, he eagerly read the name on the cover, inwardly hoping it would ring some bells in his head, but that didn't happen to his hidden disappointment.

He tossed the book on the desk as he straightened himself. After he found himself seated firmly on a lone chair, he started flipping through the pages and scanned through the organized notes.

It didn't take much observation skills to come out with the conclusion that this belonged to a girl, judging from the neat handwriting. His hopes were high that he would be able to find something of value here.

 _Japanese history, English language, Mathematics, Geography, blah blah blah, a random page of drawing, Japanese language, Physics, blah blah blah…_

He breezed through the unimportant pages, sparing glances for each heading each page offered. Half way through the book and he was still not getting anything from it, nothing could stir his memories like that art room venturing did.

Another dozen pages later Taki grew slightly agitated, contemplating if he should stop wasting time on this and do something more useful.

His mind was half-set on placing the notebook back in the drawer. But then he felt it, as he skimmed through another page like he did with the others.

It was a subtle feeling really, the way it touched his heartstrings was considered gentle and tender, so faint and dim that he would've disregard it at any normal circumstances. But he didn't ignore it this time around. If there's one thing he learned from this trip, it would be to let his intuitions guide him, and do what felt _right_.

He traced back a few pages he over-flipped. Fingertips numb for once not because of the cold, but because of the fretfulness of what he might discover in the next minute.

And when he saw it, he sucked in a breath of the chilling air at the content the page provided.

 _Kataware-doki._

Something in his head contorted in an unpleasant way, like something had grabbed both sides of his brain and twisted. Feeling slightly nauseous, he rubbed his forehead to soothe the forming headache.

There, something was special with this term, that's for sure. Give how reading that word again made his head spun and disorientated like it was tossed in a blender.

With much effort, he pushed the dizziness away into the back of his head, pupils contracted as he read the sentences under the heading.

 _Kataware-doki = Twilight time_

 _Occur every day in a certain timeframe when the sun is setting_

 _For a brief moment, realms across time and dimension are crossed and reality is blurred_

He frowned, lips pursed as he sat there quietly, fiddling with his bangs while he wondered just what word meant, or what it really meant to him. He'd never heard of this word before, yet he felt like he knew it somewhere else before, like he had heard of it before.

Was it something local to Itomori people? Because It certainly wasn't taught in school, his teachers never mentioned about this _kataware-doki_ in their classes for as far as he could remember.

Or was it something he had heard of before but he wasn't paying attention, and automatically stored in his brain without him knowing and never remembered it until it was mentioned? Like a subconscious memory?

Nonetheless, even as realization didn't strike as Taki hope it would do, there's something more to it that made it felt so unique to him.

Something about this word was extremely meaningful to him. Something that made this word so crucial, so important, so catchy, so unforgettable.

It was so close, just on the tip of his tongue, sitting there as it waited for itself to be said.

Taki bit his finger, hard enough to leave an imprint. His fingers pulled at his hair, the slightly painful sensation kept his brain moving and working efficiently.

He knew it was something about Itomori, of a mountain high above clouds, looming over the village.

Something about a scenery, so beautiful that it was forever engraved in his memories, something he should never have forgotten.

Something was in his head, far down in his brain. Something was there, something he had been searching for a long while already.

But… what was it?

It was there, he was sure of it, he could even feel it yearning for his touch. But as of now, it was blurry, unremembered and censored.

He was an inch away from the answer, a thought away from remembering it all, if he outstretched his arm a bit more he could most certainly touch it. Yet it felt like it was so far beyond his reach, untouchable like it wasn't meant for a mere mortal, a Pandora's box.

What was it?

He wrecked his mind, pushing it with all the force he could muster, to force that bit of memory out from the pit and in the open. Veins popped out his forehead as he slammed, punch, kicked, and whipped his brain for the answer.

What was it…

What was it…

What was it…

"…"

Stubbornly, it refused to come out.

Lurking in the shadows with a teasing smile. Shying itself back to its little cave. Remained stubbornly hidden under his heart.

Taunting Taki with a mocking sneer as it sank back down in the sea of memories.

The thin line, the only thing that had been keeping him from breaking apart, snapped. His vision tainted an angry red.

There was a resounding slam as he slapped the notebook hard on the desk.

Grinding his teeth together, his stinging hands came up to cover the ugly expression he must've had on his face away from the world, skin turning red as he dragged his nails across his forehead to his cheek.

His shoulders shivered with barely leashed anger and rage, arms twitching to smash a desk to pieces. To vent his fury on something, anything!

What was it? It was so close, yet why couldn't he remember it? The answer was presented right in front of him, yet his hand phased through it like it was a mere phantom. It was inside him all along, yet no matter how deep or hard he dug it won't come out.

Angry tears gathered, blurring his vision. He exhaled and inhaled heavily through gritted teeth, a deep growl sounded from the bottom of his throat.

Frustration, anger, hatred, bitterness, disappointment. The darkest emotions surfaced as he struggled internally, keeping his rage in check and his fists from lashing out.

A bell tinkled softly.

Clear and distinct, even as there was a raging sea of chaotic emotions in his head.

" _Calm down, take deep breaths. In, out. In, out," his father said, "take control of your temper. You are not a child anymore."_

He shook as he repressed the red-hot flame in his stomach. Biting the side of his cheek, this time hard enough to draw blood, he crushed it down with all his power.

He sucked in a sharp breath of air, lungs itchy from the cool air. With difficulty, he forced his trembling body to still like a statue, shutting himself away from the world. Eyes closed and fists clenched, he waited.

And waited.

"…."

A moment later, he allowed his muscles to relax. Hot air came out in a puff before he inhaled another breath of fresh oxygen.

Whatever had been fueling his emotions were gone, the burning fire of fury had flickered and smothered, they left his body like it was sucked right out from his flesh. Leaving only a hollow soul behind.

Soon, only bitterness remained, as well as exhaustion and tiredness.

Like a defeated old man, he breathed a weary sigh, utterly void of energy, and let his head fall on the desk with a dull thud. The aching pain from his skull was brushed aside as he bit his lips with mixed feelings.

A part of him was still frustrated, the bitterness would linger no matter what he does. But another part of him felt shabby, ragged like he had suddenly aged ten years in a day.

He sighed, negativity rolling off his body in waves, eyes clamped shut as he blanked his mind, chasing away the unnecessary thoughts.

The teen stayed like that for a while, until the lingering burning heat from his earlier outburst faded and soothing iciness enveloped his head in a cool embrace.

"…why does this keep happening…" He mumbled against the dusty wood.

The classroom offered no reply, silent save for the dreary whistling of the wind.

* * *

 **Hey dudes.**

 **Just letting you know, I love Kimi no Na Wa, otherwise, I won't be here writing this story of such length.**

 **I've been always day dreaming about Taki actually taking the initiative and search for Mitsuha, and I really want to share this idea with you guys.**

 **Don't worry, I will continue to update. In fact, the next chapter is already half-done.**

 **I'll keep this story alive for as long as I can, as long as I still have that drive inside of me. I really want to finish this story.**

 **And I want to thank you guys for sticking around, and it motivates me to keep this story going.**

 **If you have any comments or ideas, please leave down a review. I'll read them.**


	3. Discoveries

When Taki opened his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of the blue sky, clear like a gigantic sheet of pure crystal. Even to his half-awake state, it was dazzling.

He didn't move immediately after he woke. He laid there, eyes half-lidded as he traced the movement of the clouds, unbothered by the cold numbness that was steadily spread through his limbs being continuously exposed to the cool air.

It was a nice nap, even without a blanket, or a soft surface to lay on, it had done the job to replenish his spent reserves, which was just what Taki needed.

The sun had been remained hidden behind a thick layer of clouds for some time already, not a single ray of light made it out from the obscuration, and allowing Taki a well-earned undisturbed nap.

When a few more moments passed, after he blinked the lingering heaviness out of his eyes, he sat up unhurriedly, wincing as his back ached from laying on the hard ground for so long. He cracked his neck and raised a hand to his mouth to stifled a yawn, glancing around the empty roof with bleary eyes.

After his little episode, he had decided to take a nap on the rooftop, hoping it would help him cool down and organize his thoughts.

He didn't really know what came over him; the infirmary was just a floor below him, warm and cozy, along with free beds and blankets, it was the perfect place to rest. But of all places to go, he went to the rooftop, where the wind was the strongest and merciless, the floor hard as stone and cold as ice.

It was as uncomfortable as hell, but his drowsiness had gone against all odds, and immediately emerged victorious. It wasn't long he found himself slipping into oblivion before he even registered the discomfort of peddles digging against his back.

But he guessed the view made up for it. To be fair, it was a really nice view.

Taki stood, dusting his pants and jacket as he neared fence. From a completely different angle and hour, the ruins of Itomori was a scenery straight out from a fantasy.

A small amount of mist had gathered during the time he was unconscious, settling around the town like a thick blanket, creating an almost mystical sight that could only be seen from a fairy tale.

He gripped the rhombus-shaped wires loosely, mouth forced ajar as another tired sigh left it. His eyes fond and longing as he stared at the town in the distant.

It was at such times he found himself calm enough to think: reflecting on his current situation, and what he had done and achieved so far.

Though now that he was a lot level-headed, he was still feeling frustrated with the lack of progress he had made, of how little he had discovered, and how much there were still for him to uncover.

It left a bad taste in his mouth, realizing that what he paid and gave wasn't equivalent to what he received in return. All the hard work he had done, for such little gain. It wasn't fair.

 _Life never is._

Originally when he first set foot into Itomori, he thought that the answers would come rushing at him like an old friend, since this place was so thick with an unknown aura that made him felt like he was home whenever he was in the area.

However, five hours into this school, he barely scratched the surface. Apart from the sketch he scavenged from the art room and the strange term _kataware-doki_ he had known from a random girl's notebook _,_ there was not much he could find.

But he was trying to be patient, and tried his hardest to remain positive. Deep down, he doubted that those were all that he would be able to find. Perhaps, and hopefully, when the time was right, it would come.

"Give it time…" he muttered to himself, the wires of the fence dug into his skin as he tightened his grip on it, "I still have much of it…"

The skin around his right wrist tingled, bare against the frosty air. He rubbed it unconsciously as he gave the view a fleeting glance, turning on his heels as he headed back down the school, never once looking back as he disappeared behind the stairs.

* * *

He wasn't lost, he never gets lost, considering that he is _great_ with directions. He was just a little clueless at where he was at, that's all.

That, and because he never had a destination in mind, just wandering around the school and stopping at places he saw fit. Entering rooms whenever he wanted, poking fun at stuff he found interest in.

At this rate, he would stumble into something eventful. That's what he kept telling himself as he ran his fingers across the worn-out white and black keys of a piano. Far from proficient, he clumsily playing the childhood song 'Mary has a Little Lamb'.

He had been in the music room for quite a while already. While most of the instruments had been taken away, most that were broken or damaged were left in here: guitars that held snapped strings, flutes that were rusted and could no longer be polished, the grand piano that was missing a dozen keys and completely off-pitched. Taki grimaced as the F-sharp gave an ear-splitting screech when he pressed on it.

There were more things for him to mess with in this room, but still, it failed to brighten his mood. He wore a constant grimace on his face as he pressed another key on the piano, it gave a dull sound that ironically reflected his state of mind.

"This isn't going anywhere…" he heaved a sigh and leaned back on the chair with a heavy heart.

Was his resolve wavering? The question popped up his mind automatically as he traced the patterns of the ceiling with his eyes.

No, far from it. In fact, his determination was as strong as it was at the start, he still believes that there was something important here that he must find out. And while there were many disappointments that had dimmed his mood, he intented to get to the bottom of all this.

He was fully prepared to skip this year's exam if this search continues to drag on, that's how determined he was. This was a lot bigger than he originally thought, perhaps in time it would even topple exams from his top priority list and claims the first place.

Exams he could retake it next year, it wasn't unusual in the slightest. Sure, he'd just be a year slower than his age group, but he could always catch up, no big deal. But hopefully it would never come to that, he'd rather graduate proudly with his friends than to self-study for an extra year.

If only a bit, he was feeling desperate, and very distressed.

He fished out his phone and tapped on the messenger app.

 _Hey_. He typed nonchalantly.

He waited, knowing that the reply would be coming any second now.

A few moments later, his phone vibrated.

 **T** : **What do you want, you slacker?** The message replied.

Taki chuckled, Tsukasa was a bit sour about his vacation from school, even when he claimed that he wasn't. The forced smile Tsukasa directed to him when he told them he would be leaving school for a couple days was so fake that Taki cringed.

 _Nothing much, just want to ask you something about our last trip to Itomori. You know, the one we go with last year with Okudera-senpai?_

Yes, that trip's memories were vague at best, scattered in bits and scraps, and he never really remembered his motive of going to the crash site. So naturally, he assumed it was because of his obsessiveness on the miraculous event that had happened, namely, the comet striking the town and, like a plot from the movies, no one died.

But now, he doubted it was that simple.

Why was he at Itomori the first place? That was the question. And since Tsukasa was with him throughout the whole trip, he figured that he might know something.

 **T:** **Oh, that, of course I remember, that was quite the journey, and left quite the impression as well considering how frantic you were at that time.**

He frowned. Frantic? Why would he be frantic?

 _Frantic? Was I frantic back then?_

 **T: Actually, it's an understatement. You were pretty desperate, actually. The entire time we were locating for Itomori you were overly serious, you barely joked and stop to rest. Hell, you didn't even let us stop for snacks most of the times.**

He blinked at the sentence, stiff fingers moved to tap on the virtual keyboard on the screen.

 _Did I?_

 **T: Of course you did. I'll be surprised if you don't.**

After a few silent moments, his fingers moved again.

 _Can you go through the details of the whole trip with me again? I can't recall most of the parts._

 **T: …**

That's what Tsukasa typed in return.

 _What, are you busy? I thought school's already over._

 **T: Oh, it's already over alright.**

The next message was a minute after the previous one was sent.

 **T: You know what? I'll just call you.**

Not a moment later, his phone rang.

With one swift movement, Taki pressed the button and held it up to his ear, "hey."

" _Hey yourself."_ Tsuaka's slightly muffled voice answered, " _so, how's Itomori? Slacker-kun."_

"Quite nice, actually," he retaliated smoothly, amused, "the view's awesome, nice weather, beautiful sky. And of course, free from homework."

" _Go die in a hole,"_ was his friend's cheerful respond, _"I can't believe your father allow you to get away with this, skipping school and letting you go on a vacation. I know that my old man would never let me."_

Taki chortled, "Tough luck for you, then. How's Takagi by the way?"

" _He hates you, that's for sure,"_ Tsukasa said dryly, _"but right now, he's at school for the extra tutorial lessons, retaking some tests to compensate for the zeros he got in most of them."_

From descending order, their academic result goes something like this: Tsukasa (constant 100 marks) Taki (70-80 marks) Takagi (0-20 marks)

"That's expected of him," he stood from the chair, and headed towards the door, phone dangling from his fingers as his free hand turned the knob, "and how's Italian part time job treating you? Tiresome?"

" _Hardly, quite an experience actually. Never thought that I will work in a part-time job, much less a waiter,"_ Taki could _feel_ a grin forming on his friend's face as he exited the room, _"the boss is quite pleased with my performance, praise me for never having slip-ups, unlike a certain friend of mine."_

"Yea, yea, sure. Keeping tell you that, just wait until the day you screw up or agitate customers with your holier-than-thou attitude, and see if Haru-san will keep hiring you. I doubt you'll be laughing then." Gradually, Taki made his way through the corridor, minding his every step while continuing his conversation with Tsukasa.

" _I doubt that it would ever happen. Unlike you, I'm a gifted and talented gentleman, and I treats both man and woman with respect. And in case you don't know, let me inform you,"_ his voice was smug and cocky even through the phone, " _top waiter of the week, kido."_

Taki blinked, certainly he heard wrong, "what?" he deadpanned.

" _I wasn't lying when I said the boss is incredibly satisfied with my results, he is very impressed with my performance. He even went so far to offer me a full-time employment when I graduate."_

"Very modest, my friend," he deadpanned, shattering a glass shard under his shoe.

" _Oi, what's with that tone,"_ through the line, Tsukasa laughed, _"it's not my fault that the customers keep asking for me specifically to take their orders, it's just part of my charm—"_

"and good looks," he finished with a chuckle, knowing exactly what Tsukasa would be saying after being friends with him for years.

" _Exactly,"_ the reply came as quickly, completely full of himself.

"Well, forgive me for being such an unworthy friend, I'm sorry I am not up to your majesticness."

" _That's not even a legitimate word."_

"You get my point, smartass."

They then settled in a moment of silence, allowing Taki to navigate his way out the school into the clearings.

" _So, what do you want to talk about? I only have another half-an-hour until my shift, so make it quick."_

"Wait, let me find a comfortable seat to sit on first." He neared the tree where he had placed his bag, picking up a still operating chair from the moist dirt ground and sat on it with a sigh, "alright. I'm good."

" _So, you want to talk about our trip to Itomori last year, right?"_

"Yep. That's the entire point of this call."

" _I'll just make this clear. There are parts that I strangely can't recall, but for the most part, I still remember."_

"Can't remember?"

" _Yep, don't know why, though. And I've been known for having adequate remembrance, it's quite rare for me to forget important stuff. Well, those that I can't remember are probably either unimportant or easily forgettable, so no harm was done."_

So it wasn't only him that had vague memories of the events of the trip, apparently Tsukasa shared the same issue a well.

"It's okay, just briefly go over what you can recall."

" _Alright,"_ his friend said, " _where do you want me to start?"_

"From the beginning, preferably."

" _Right,"_ Tsukasa cleared his throat, _"I think it all started when it was a year ago. There were days where you were a bit dispirited and weren't acting like your barbarian self. Then one day you asked me to take over your shift at work while you decide to go to Itomori by yourself."_

"Do you know why?" there are motives for anything. But his motive to go visit Itomori crash site out of the blue was unclear.

" _Why you suddenly decided to go to Itomori? Uh…"_ Tsukasa pondered, _"you never specified, but I did remember you saying something about… meeting someone? I guess?"_

Taki swallowed. He was… searching someone?

"I was?"

" _Wait, you actually don't remember? I thought you were kidding. Amnesia? Dude, that's serious."_

"Do you know who that someone is?" he ignored Tsukasa's concerned tone and insisted in asking his question, "do you?"

"… _I don't know. Like I said, you never specified, and you didn't mention the name. But I guess the person is a female judging how flustered you got when I mentioned her, I even went on and assumed you have a huge crush on her since you ditched you job and traversed all the way across Japan just to see this person."_

Taki's hand went up to fist his hair, why couldn't he remember? Someone? Was he searching for someone? He could not recall a thing for his life! Did he really forget about it all or was Tsukasa messing with him? But knowing the seriousness of the situation, Tsukasa would never mess around.

"Anything else? Anything about this person you still know?" he demanded.

" _Well, she lives in Itomori. Well, lived, since it doesn't exist now. That's all I know."_

Well, he could already feel another storm brewing in his head.

"Okay, can you get on with the story? What happened during the trip?"

"… _when we began our journey, you had no idea where our destination was at, nor the name of said destination. All we had was a sketch of Itomori you drew yourself as the only lead. We spent many days traveling from place to place, asking people for direction, which none really knew. But even so, we carried on."_

"Then we met the ramen chef, right?"

" _Yes. By that time, you were thinking of giving up on the search since it was getting nowhere, that and we were running low on money and holidays. And it was by pure chance the chef's wife recognized the sketch and identified the name of the town. We were incredibly lucky. But considering what happened next, not really."_

"What's happened, then?"

" _The next day we went to Itomori, or what's left of Itomori,"_ Tsukasa trailed off, voice hesitant, _"then there's the part I don't really remember. Something bizarre happened there, probably an argument? I don't know. But in the end, we never found your friend."_

"..."

" _Then, I think we headed back to the inn and spent the night there. You were really depressed when you knew your friend moved away, so we left you to your sulking. The next day when we woke you were already gone, left a note about still having something else to do and told us to go back to Tokyo first without you."_

Taki paused, staring at the sky blankly, rubbing his face tiredly, "…do you have any idea where I went?"

" _Well, we did ask the chef since he was the one who drove you. He said that you went to the mountains, to do something important, but didn't mention what. That's all I know,"_ Tsukasa finished, _"actually, how could you not know? There are stuff that even when forgotten leaves impressions, and it's not even that long ago."_

He had no response to that. His focus was on something else: a small piece surfaced from the depth of his memories.

A mountain, it was a barren mountain, high above the sky that overlooks the world since the birth of the planet. It was a beautiful mountain, the tip was concaved like a volcano, and there was something atop of it. Something sacred, something important, something holy.

Yes, now he remembered, he woke up there, on that mountain, without knowledge of how and why he was up there.

It was suspicious, very much so. Much of the gaps were still left unfilled, so many questions that had yet to be answered.

But now Taki knew, it had something to do with that mountain. But the reason why he suddenly decided to go hike that mountain was still beyond him.

And of course, that person he was searching for. According to Tsukasa, it was a female, whose face he did not know, whose voice he didn't recognize, whose name he had no idea of.

And was she who he had been searching for? A girl he never recalled meeting in his entire life, whom he had never interacted before, whom he had never so much caught a glimpse of?

" _You alright? Are you spacing out? You're doing that a lot recently,"_ his words were interlaced with worry.

None of this was making any sense, nothing was adding up, it didn't click like he hoped it would. But nonetheless, he got hold of some crucial information, and despite everything, it was still a lead.

"It's nothing. That's a lot to take in since much of it I don't remember," he mumbled, "but thanks anyways, Tsukasa. You have no idea how much that helps, I mean it."

"… _no problem, anytime. That's what friends are for,"_ then his tone took on a playful one, _"just remember to bring a souvenir or two back and Takagi and I might just forgive you."_

"Right, I will, if I find one."

Tsukasa sniggered slightly in amusement, _"glad to see you so lively and back to your normal self. I'll see you back at school. Shift's about to start."_

"Don't be rude to the customers and behave like a good boy, Tsukasa, keep your dirty mouth in check and don't flirt with older women," he chided teasingly with a smile.

" _Yes daddy,"_ the retort was replied wryly. Then with a click, the line went dead.

Taki sat back, breathing softly through his nostrils, and wondered how complex his life had gotten.

What he had just been told helped a lot, but it also made things a hell complicated. The puzzle had been rearranged, and he had much to think about.

* * *

It was much like the ignition of a spark, small and sudden, weak yet pulsing.

That's what Taki felt the moment he prepared to step back inside the school, a sudden shift in the air that made his head shot up and glance around, trying to find the source. When he did, he twirled to face the open sky.

Outside, the sun was setting, dipping lower and lower with excruciating slowness, painting the sky orange from the dying light it emitted, gradually deepening to a darker color.

The peculiar feeling embedded in his chest grew stronger with every passing second, as well as that heart-clenching sensation in his heart. He didn't move from his spot, simply watched the heavens silently.

He had watched a fair share of sunsets in his life, but none gave him this level of sadness like this one did. Was it because he was watching it in Itomori instead of Tokyo? A change of scenery might be the reason.

Then, as the sun disappeared behind the horizons, under the clouds and mountains, the world was basked in pink and red. Like a rainbow, rays of different hue arched over the sky, stretching beyond what eyes could see.

In the distant, layers upon layers, clouds coiled and warped, twisted and turned, forming the most wondrous shapes, countless so that Taki could stand here all day watching.

"Kataware-doki…" the words left his mouth without himself even realizing it, brain still hijacked, awestruck and immersed with the dazzling scene before his eyes.

Truly, it was beautiful, it was magical, it wasn't a scene that belongs to such a polluted planet like Earth, they were unworthy to be gifted such magnificent sight.

Then, there was a tug on his right wrist, so light and weak that he could barely feel it.

Taki glanced down, brows furrowed as he saw nothing wrapped around his appendage, yet he could feel the pull, an urge that pushed him into the school. He followed the flow and let himself be guided, turning away from the sky as he stepped into the school.

It was that feeling again, the feeling that had led him to this place, the feeling that had caused him so much painful and torturous days, that feeling that he had been so deliberately chasing after for the past few days.

It had led him thus far, and he had a feeling that it would not fail to lead him to something else again.

He followed the phantom string connected to his wrist, the right wrist he had felt so naked to open air without his ornament covering it, so insecure without that thin string encased around his arm, so uncomfortable without that soft piece of silk caressing his skin.

 _Was it even his to begin with?_

He trusts his hunches, he always had. And so, he trusted the link, the link that had him connected to something, someone important.

It was subtle, constantly flickering out and into existence like a small and weak flame on a candle. So he closed his eyes, focusing on that fleeting feeling, maintaining its existence, keeping it alive and warm.

It guided him through the corridors, around corners and turns, up the stairs with tardy pace. The more he traveled, the closer he got, the more the link strengthened.

Throughout all this, his shoes kicked the trash littered on the floor, tainted with filth and dirty liquid as he stepped on tiny ponds. An hour before, he had so desperately tried to keep it as clean as possible, but now he couldn't bring himself to care the tiniest bit.

It wasn't until he stopped in front of a door did he allow himself to survey his surroundings. By now the sensation was strong, probably stronger than ever. A small flame now burned readily in his abdomen.

It was just behind to door, he knew it.

He held a hand out and grabbed the handle, shaking slightly from anticipation as he slid it open with one swift move.

It was a classroom, much like the last one he visited: organized in the same way and approximately the same scale of untidiness. Yet it contained this nostalgic feeling that made water swell behind his eyes.

Hesitantly, he took small steps forward, following the attracting force that was drawing him in for the past minutes. He passed rows of tables and chairs, stepped over fallen stationaries, and overlooked the sharp crack as he crushed a pen under his heel.

Then he arrived his destination at long last. He stood there quietly as he studied the lone desk and chair combo seating at the corner of the room, far back in the classroom and next to the windows.

Inexplicably, to Taki's eyes, it seemed lonely. It had that explicit downcast air around it. Perhaps it was the way the lights shone through the glass created such ambiance, but it did not change the fact that this desk seemed so distant away from the other desks, desolated into its own corner. Like an outcast that would never belong here no matter how hard it tries to fit in.

It tugged at his hand stubbornly, pulling it down until his fingers touched the cool surface of the oak wood. He felt a small jolt the way the wood felt under his touch, like a small spark of electricity, or recognition.

Hesitantly, he pulled out the chair from the desk, then proceeded to set his rear on it lightly, the chair groaned ominously, but held admirably against his weight.

For a still moment, Taki held his breath, eyes wide uncomprehendingly.

Then he exhaled, leaning back on the chair and closed his eyelids, giving in to the urge to rub his stinging temples. And as he sat in silence, he contemplated.

He didn't know how. But why, pray tell, does sitting on this desk feels so _right_?

It was that gentle yet firm presence of the wood pressed against his back as he shifted on his seat. It was that nick on the edges of the desk, scars marred by undisciplined students with scissors and rulers. It was the perspective sitting on this spot grant him that made his emotions stir: the angle of the blackboard, the scene outside the window, the formation of desks, the arrangement of the bulletin board.

And why did he feel like he had been to this classroom before? He could easily imagine himself seated in this classroom, listening attentively to whatever the teacher was saying while seated together with his fellow students. He could _see_ himself sitting with a couple friends, chatting and laughing at some random silly joke they made.

 _A girl and a boy sat across him, a grin and a smirk on their faces respectively as they gossiped about the relationship Mr. Yamada of English language and Ms. Tonho of Mathematics was rumored of having. They shared a laugh so loud that it attracted the attention of students in the classroom._

Moving as though in a trance, he bent down, hand reaching in to search to drawer. For a moment, he was confused, all he managed to grab was empty air; no books, no notes, nothing.

He peered in and blinked in surprised as it was a void of nothing, pitch black that seemed very much empty to his eyes.

 _Look again._

He narrowed his eyes as he caught something rather out of place at the corner of the drawer, shadowed and camouflaged.

With a raised eyebrow, he reached in once more to grab whatever object was hidden there, fumbling in the dark. When he gazed it, he felt to soft caress of silk. When he grabbed it, the skin around his wrist flared momentarily, gone before he noticed the odd sensation.

Slightly quivering from expectancy, he pulled his arm free from the mouth of the desk, fingers spreading slowly as he inspected the stray object he managed to grasp.

It was ribbon, unfinished as there were still many left to be braided. An ornament, long and soft, half-weaved as it was still in the process of being made. Nine thin crimson strings parted from the knitted and finished section, like how creeks separate from the mainstream.

Were they waiting? Waiting patiently until the day delicate fingers would sew them together into completion.

It felt warm in his hands, radiating heat and warmth that soothed his numb and rigid fingers. It pulsed against his flesh, with clockwork regularity that matched with his own loud heartbeats.

Then, his hands moved.

His mind could not comprehend what he was seeing, could not interpret what he was doing. For a brief moment, he thought his eyes were deceiving him.

His fingers moved with practiced ease, swiftly fiddling with the unbraided part of the ribbon, placing one string over another with nimble movements, this repetitive action was performed without any stiffness, slow and without any uncertainty, like he had done these a thousand times.

 _This one over that one, twist, overlap this one with those two, twist, put this string through the gap, tighten the knob, twist, repeat again._

He acted and moved in a hypnotic state, his fingers moved in their own record as though they didn't belong to him, his mind was in a daze as the ribbon continued to form millimeter by millimeter.

Then, outside the window, the world plunged into darkness, whatever remaining light that was left vanished as night replaced dusk.

At the same instant, whatever that was controlling his movements fuzzed and vanished, his hand froze mid-knitting, the heavy mist that had been clouding his head cleared as refreshing wind came and scatter them apart like a salty sea breeze.

When he came to his senses, his wide eyes strayed towards the half-done ornament in his grasp.

"What was that?"

* * *

"Where did you get that?"

The question was asked by the ramen chef as they sat in the van, making their journey back to town.

"What?" he glanced away from the window, removing his head away from his head as he asked, "sorry, I wasn't listening."

The chef did his grunt again, "the thing you have tied around your wrist, you weren't wearing it yesterday nor this morning. So where did you get that from?"

The skin around his wrist didn't feel that bare anymore, as there was now something replacing the ornament he used to had it wrapped there: another ornament, albeit not finished, and a darker red than his previous one.

It wasn't completed, far from it. Only a quarter of the length was braided, the other three-quarters of it were still separated into nine thinner strings. But even so, he had it tied around his wrist, making a rough knob so that it could hold itself securely around his appendage.

"Oh, I found it at the school," he replied, his other hand tracing the patterns of the wristband.

"The school?" the disbelief in the man's voice made Taki look up, he raised his voice, "it is a restricted area for a reason! It could collapse any second. What were you thinking?!"

"It looked pretty sturdy to me," Taki gulped, feeling the short glare the chef threw at him before returning his focus back to the road, "anyways, do you know anything about this cord? You seem like you do."

The man stayed silent for a moment, eyes narrowed until they were slits. Taki waited patiently until the man spoke.

"Of course I do, Itomori was renowned for making those. In fact, I vaguely remember an article just to talk about our strings and lacings. Really flattering, quite an article to be able to boast the pathetically tiny ego Itomori had had at that time," his free hand came up to rub his chin, "of course, the Miyamizu family got the whole fame since it was them that made those strings. Had been under the spotlight for quite a while."

"Miyamizu family?" it rang a bell.

The chef chuckled deeply, "I'm surprised you haven't heard of them, I thought that since you have done some background digging about Itomori, you'd know about them for sure."

"Well, Yasuke mentioned them once or twice, but he didn't talk too much about them."

"I see, no big surprise, Yasuke never dwells on a topic for too long before he rambles off," said the man with amusement, "for your information, for many generations the Miyamizus had been upholding the traditions for Itomori, and they were also the family who managed the shrine. The shrine maidens performed during festivals and weekends. And aside from that, they sew ribbons and ornaments for a living, offering some sake to the local god."

"Kuchikamizake."

"What was that?" the chef gave Taki a questioning look.

"The sake, it's called Kuchikamizake."

"Really? I never knew about the name. Did Yasuke told you that?"

Taki squinted his eyes, digging his thoughts. The words came out his mouth so easily, that he never realized how he knew about the name.

"I guess? I don't really know, he speaks fast for an old man like him, but it think he did mention it as well," he glanced out windshield ahead, watching as the buildings and lights came into view, "I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm hoping that you'll give me another ride tomorrow."

The chef turned, eyebrows raised, "tomorrow? Don't tell me you're going back to the school."

"…maybe?" timidly, he withered under the man's glare.

The chef held his gaze for a couple tense seconds, before sighing and looking back at the road ahead, spinning the wheels to turn a corner, "I swear, kids these days are such nutjobs."

"Uhh… so, can I take that as a yes?" his voice trailed off as the man turned to regard him again, eyes sharp and stern like his father when he lectures Taki for doing something he doesn't approve of.

"Yes, I'll take you to your place, just stay out of trouble," then he pointed a finger at the teen, eyes glinting sinisterly, "and don't you dare collapse the whole construction and die, I'd rather not have the government up my doorstep because of you."

"Duly noted," he managed out, and it was definitely not a whimper.

* * *

The moment he returned back to his inn, he shrugged off his coat and unraveled his scarf around his neck, dropping them carelessly on the wooden floor.

At long last, Taki succumbed to exhaustion. The revelations and stress were taxing to his mental health, he was running on empty since for long. His limbs felt like they were about to fall off, and his muscles were literally burning from lactic acid.

His mind was forced empty when he hauled himself to the showers. He turned the tap and sighed as the warm water alleviated the tiredness in his body. Hastily, he scrubbing his skin and hair with soap as he rushed himself to finish early, so that he could meet the warm embrace of heaven as soon as he could, also known as the bed.

Steam floated out the open door as he stepped out, a lot cleaner and but the bags around his eyes didn't get any lighter. He dried his hair with a few quick rubs before tossing it to the corner of the room. He didn't even have the strength to brush his teeth, nor the mind to realize that his throat was burning in desperation for water.

Though as he dropped on his bed, face-palming the excessively soft pillow with enough force to actually hurt, he caught a glimpse of the items on the inn desk, waiting for his examination quietly.

A piece of paper, containing the sketch of Itomori Town when it was still alive, found in the wall of the art room.

A notebook, of a random girl. Its major content useless and unimportant but the word _kataware-doki,_ which did more than stir his memories _._ It was found one of the many abandoned classrooms.

The final object, which he had taken off his wrist in order for a closer examination. A ribbon, half-made, half-braided. Its owner was a member of the Miyamizu family, probably at high school age before the comet hits. Found in a specific desk in a classroom he was guided to and established a rather strong link with this ribbon for unknown reasons.

This was a puzzle, a very hard one nonetheless. One thing was connected to the other, and that with another. This all had something in common, and each had caused his sense to tingle as if he was mildly shocked, they jolted his memories, teased his brain and emotions, but never enough for him to get this puzzle solved.

Always a bit, always an inch away, always so close, yet so far.

"…"

He was too sleepy for this, even as he knew the importance of this all, no man could resist the power of sleepiness.

 _Maybe tomorrow… maybe tomorrow…_

With his last bit of his nonexistent power, he flicked the switch on the wall, reducing the entire room to darkness.

That night, Taki dreamed a very vivid dream.

* * *

 _He is running._

 _He is running quickly, in a hurried manner._

 _No, that will be an understatement._

 _He is running as if his life depends on it._

 _His lungs burn, his legs scream. Every step he takes he can feel his remaining reserves dwindling at a rapid rate. Yet he runs, increasing his speed even as his legs are about to give out._

 _Trees blur around him as he sprints up the dirt path, he skips over a fallen trunk of a tree and lands with a stagger, but quickly regains his balance and pushes himself off with breakneck speed._

 _He is running, without a care of his pain, of the slight heaviness sitting on his chest, jiggling and bouncing uncomfortably since he began his run. He runs, without a care in the world._

 _This entire time he runs, only a thought occupies his mind._

 _ **He must find her, before it's too late.**_


	4. Reminiscent Hike

_The humid forest air that hung heavily on his shoulders? It was annoying. It made breathing hard for him with every step he progressed._

 _How long had he been running?_

 _How much was left there to run?_

 _His legs ached, his lungs burned, and his face was beaded with sweat. Every breath he took was rewarded with a sharp burst of pain from his chest._

 _It wasn't like he could really blame her for this. While her body was in a fairly healthy shape from living in the mountains for a decade and a half, she simply wasn't built for a marathon. Her legs lacked the toned muscles of a sprinter._

 _If he could sigh, he would. He felt sorry for abusing her body, and the pain that would come when she got her body back._

 _That was, if he succeeds._

 _And if he fails…_

 _There wouldn't be anybody left for her to return to._

 _No_. _NO!_

 _He frantically shook his head, berating himself for even allowing his brain to think those thoughts. As much as he despised it, there would always be a cynical side of him, compensating the 'what if's in a more realistic and darker aspect. It was very distractive right now._

 _Which was why he missed protruding root and he nearly earned himself a painful faceplant for that. Luckily, with surprising reflexes he didn't know he had, and a short burst of speed he didn't know her body had, he righted himself and reduced it to a mere stumble. The moment he regained his balance, he resumed pumping his legs to their limits._

 _There wasn't much time left to spare. In a few short hours, the comet would come, and Itomori and a third of its residents would meet their impending end like it was a scripted play that was doomed to happen._

 _Earlier this day, he had exhausted his brain with ideas and solutions to come up with the best feasible plan. As slim as the chances of it working was, it was still enough for he and Mitsuha's friends put them in action. What other choice did they have? It was their only hope._

 _But he failed. He failed his role to persuade the mayor to order an emergency evacuation. It wasn't enough._

 _Thus, he had doomed the town. And by extension, he failed Mitsuha._

 _Out of options, he had no choice but to take a very dangerous gamble, a very dangerous gamble once again played against the divine deity that had brought him here._

 _For it to work would take nothing less than a miracle. Which would less likely to occur since it had already happened once when he found himself back in Mitsuha's body after he drank the sake. But to save her, it would take nothing short of another miracle._

 _But miracles rarely happen twice, as one might say._

 _But he trusted in it. He had faith in their bond, he trusted its divine intervention, he placed his trust in Musubi._

 _It had taken him here once without fail when he needed it the most, he dared to believe that it won't fail him now that he was this far._

 _But still, he was taking a risk. And it was not guaranteed to happen._

 _And should it fail, all this would be over, and all their effort would be in vain._

 _Nothing would change. History would repeat itself._

 _She would die._

 _And he hated that._

 _The desperation, the anger, the feeling of hopelessness._

 _To know how everything would turn out and watch it all happen right in front of his eyes, so desperate to change it but couldn't gain the power to do so._

 _Despite his incredible determination, he was still, after all, human. His resolves could still waver and shatter._

 _But…_

 _He gritted his teeth, and his legs suddenly felt lighter as he pushed them harder. The run had become a sprint. The trees flew past him like a blurring background that mattered none. He felt like dying from suffocation, but even then, he pushed on._

 _He would keep going, trying his very best. Until he saw the end and saw no way out of this dead end, he would keep trying._

 _And even he failed this time, he would find another way again. A different route._

 _He would try infinite times, until he eventually saves the town and its people, until she was safe from her demise._

 _The power of faith was strong. The will of belief was unmovable._

 _He believed that he had the power to change this, to change the fate of Itomori, and to rewrite the history anew where all the fifteen hundred people survive the comet crash like it was a miracle._

 _He was doing this, because she was important._

 _Because she didn't deserve to die, she was still young._

 _Because she still had a life to live, out the mountains, in the cities._

 _Because of his selfishness, he wanted her to live, to be loved. He loved her._

 _Yes, he loved her. The love had bloomed without him knowing not long after he began trading body with the quirky girl. Even though they hadn't really came in contact with each other except messages left through phones, he with absolute no doubt and hesitation loved her._

 _Her spirit was one of the many things he loved about her. So uplifting, so bright and full of life, always managed to bring a smile up to his face when she left a joke on his phone to crack him up. Her soul was a bouncy flame of golden fire, warm and fierce._

 _He loneliness, while many people would find it sad, was something he loved about her. Her strength to stay strong and unbroken even when she was lonely and isolated from people because of her status and parentage was something he had always admire. Her loneliness made him more desperate to hold her in his arms and never let go. It gave him the thought that he should protect her no matter the cost._

 _And of course, he loved her because he was attracted to her pretty looks. After all, he was a healthy teenage boy, he could appreciate the feminine features of a girl. To him, she was perfect, inhumanly beautiful. He liked her hair, her face, her slim body, the shape of her delicate hand._

 _As cheesy as it might sound, he loved the color of her eyes the most, golden brown orbs that radiated warmth and light which he could felt every time he looked at the reflection in the mirror. Sparkling with life and mirth, he loved her eyes for what they represented her personality._

 _He snapped out of his thoughts as he slipped on wet mud. This time he was not so fortunate, his knees scratched the ground painfully, he gasped. But he ignored the pain in order to push himself up, and continued the seemingly endless journey. Blood was leaking down his knee and painting his stocking red, but those were petty little concerns that mattered little to him._

 _The forest grew dimmer, and he gazed up the sky. It was darkening, and traces of orange could be seen through the clouds, accompanied by hues of pink._

 _There wasn't much time left. But fortunately, he was nearly there._

 _He recognized the surroundings from his last visit here with Yotsuha and grandma. The trees were becoming less dense as he went in deeper, and the clouds were nearing the surface like it was about to come in contact with the surface._

 _He broke through the ranks of trees and leaves and faced a steep slanted flat surface of a barren land that only contained nothing more than piles of scattered rocks. And at the very end of the sloped hill, still far out his reach, was the top of the mountain._

 _His body was drenched in sweat, he could feel it soak into his clothing, and clung to his skin. His legs were seconds from failing him. His chest burned with agony as he panted for breath. The feminine assets that hung on his chest were weighty, becoming much a bother that it began to mess with his balance._

 _Overall, he was dead tired, and he felt he could collapse at any second now._

 _Mitsuha!_

 _His eyes flared, and he pushed on._

 _Struggling and staggering, he rushed his way up the side of the mountain without twisting his ankles or risking another injury that would further hinder his movements. It was painstakingly a slow process, but he was getting there gradually and surely._

 _Orange rays of warm light shone down upon his back, casting his own shadow in front of him. And the light was getting dimmer as moments continued to pass._

 _He was running out of time._

 _The tip of the mountain appeared in his sights, and he sighed a breath of relief and fatigue. He ran the last short distance with ragged and angst pants._

 _Then,_ it _happened._

 _He heard… something._

 _Something familiar, nostalgic._

 _It was a voice, faint and distant like it was an echo._

 _It was a voice. Whoever it was, it was shouting._

 _What was the person shouting? Why did he sound so desperate?_

 _As tiny it might be, he could listen to the well-pronounced words._

 _It was oddly familiar… was it her?_

 _Then he heard—_

Taki opened hi eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks as stared up the darkened ceiling of his inn room.

A hand slowly reached up, touching the tears with trembling fingers.

A sense of lost consumed him like a gnawing pit.

The van's engine emitted a deep and low hum was both comforting and reassuring to Taki's ears. He was almost lured to sleep until he was jerked awake when the car jumped as it rolled over a bump on the road.

"Oi, quit trying to sleep, we're nearly there," the chef said as he leaned forward to observe the road ahead. Eyes squinted, he steered the wheels as he made to turn another corner, "can't be too sure, but if it's anywhere, it'd be here somewhere nearby."

Before long, the car slowed to a stop before a wooden fence that used to prevent cars or trucks from further entering. It was broken into splinters, what remained of the railing was left embedded in the dirt. It was barely hanging on its last leg. Yet another sign that this place was long abandoned before his prolonged arrival.

With a grunt the driver killed the engine with the twist of his keys, then he twirled his body and bent over his seat to retrieve something from the backseats, mumbling something under his breath.

With nothing to do, Taki placed his chin on his hand and idly leaned on the window sill, staring out at the foliage that surrounded them. Fiddling absently with the half-done ribbon he had hastily tied around his wrist this morning.

Far above their heads, as far as eyes could reach to see, everything was a luscious green, the blue of the sky was barely visible through layers upon layers of thick leaves. The color was rich and luscious, green to its stems and brown to its roots.

It was calm and nice. A benefit from occasionally visiting the nature, Taki supposed, a change of scenery certainly did help ease his stress and lighten his mood.

But there was something else in this forest that helped ease his nerves. The scenery was familiar to his mind's eye. A headache that had been brewing for a while had toned down a bit the moment he laid his eyes on the trees; a thick white rope wrapped around its trunk.

He pulled a map out from the fold of his traveling coat and unfolded it with an equal amount of care and haste as he read through the marker-traced path he would be traveling. He had a compass in his bag as well, just for extra discretion in case he found himself lost in the woods.

"Here."

A lunchbox was thrust in his face, the plastic cool against his cheek through the cloth wrapped around the box.

Taki blinked at the chef, whose lips curled up wryly as he gave a smile of dry humor.

"I'm feeling a very strong déjà vu here," Taki muttered, "is this, by any chance, onigiri?"

"You know it," the chef shrugged in response, "eating can food and energy bars ain't gonna do much to replenish your energy."

Taki grabbed the bento by its knot, noting its rather heavy weight, "you're too generous, thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank my wife. She insisted on making you lunch," the chef said, rolling down the side windows. He leaned back in his seat as he lit his cigarette, "I just smile and nod and go along with whatever she says. Really, I don't know why I'm in charge of the ramen stand when she was much bossier boss than I could ever be."

Taki laughed.

"Laugh while you can, kid. Just don't say I didn't warn you. When you find yourself a woman in the future, you'll be so whipped that you would be following her around like a lost puppy," the chef chortled, "you'll see what I mean when you are older."

"We'll see," he chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelts as he opened the door and stepped out. The cool air greeted him and he took in the scent deeply minted with leaves. The soft soil under the sole of his shoes sunk a bit as he stood up straight and stretched.

"Hey. Just know that I'll be picking you back up here at seven, it's dangerous out in the dark, more so being in the woods. So just make sure you are back in time, otherwise there will be a searching party for you, and we won't want that kind of trouble," the chef started, closing the door for him as he started his engines, "okay?"

Taki nodded, placing the lunchbox into his bag before securing it back on his back. The man nodded, satisfied.

Before he drove away, the chef leaned out the window, "so, mind me asking?"

"Shoot right away."

"What's with the change of itinerary? I have to ask, what made you change your mind to come here instead of going back to the school like you said you would yesterday?"

"Well," Taki mused, shouldering his bag as he stared far into the distance, "I just realized this morning, that there is something pretty important on the mountains that I _must_ see. That alone is more than enough a reason for me. Other than that, I guess to relax a bit and enjoy the local view."

"Damn straight, doubt there'll be any view better than Itomori," the chef left down as slid down the window, "hope you find what you're looking for, kid. I'll see you soon."

 _He couldn't agree more_ , Taki thought as he watched as the van drove away in the distance, a small trail of dust left in its wake. He turned around and moved the opposite way.

For the umpteenth time, Taki checked his map. He frowned, then turned the map sideways, and cocked his head the other way.

"I'm pretty sure it's this way," he pointed at the spot, and then his eyes shifted to another spot, "…or is it this way?"

Was he lost?

Yes, and this time he wasn't ashamed to admit it.

Because, how was he supposed to know which way to go when the correct road had literally disappeared from the face of the earth? Or when there was suddenly another path that didn't exist on the map? Or how about when a wall of fallen tree blocked his path and he had to take the extremely long way around?

To sum up what Taki had just discovered in the past hour, the map was nearly a decade out of date.

He didn't know why he was surprised anymore. Luck always seemed to be on his opposite side he took. He sighed a breath of resignation.

Damn it, it would've been so much easier if he could use GPS, too bad the signal couldn't reach that far deep into the forest. Now all he could rely on was an outdated map and his slightly acuter-than-most-people institution of direction.

"I think… it is this way?" Uncertainly, he turned to a stray path that seemed a lot wider than the other ones, and checked the map again, "logically speaking, it _is_ wider than the other paths, and it _does_ lead to the higher grounds, so…" he took one last glance at the map, "forget it."

In the end, he took the wider path, and he prayed to the gods above that this would be the one leading to his destination, and to please not to crush any more of his dreams and hopes.

He had been walking for quite a while now, with most of the time was spent with him trying to figure out the right way, or just him heading back the way he came from whenever he reaches a dead end.

But, oh well, he wasn't in a hurry, far from it. There was no need to rush when he still had… about ten hours or so to spare, more than enough time to make his way up and down.

So, why not enjoy the hike while he was at it? It would be a shame to waste this perfect opportunity, to be able to kick back and relax all the while admiring the view. He advanced surely and slowly, in a steady and sedated pace that would conserve him his dwindling stamina. And it would give him the time to ponder on his thoughts.

He had been feeling it the moment he entered the forest, the weird vibe that gave him this odd feeling. He couldn't stress it enough, but this place was _very_ familiar. Like, extremely familiar to a way that it was creepy.

But then again, he did hike this part of the mountain a year ago, so even if he had trouble remembering it, it probably left enough of a deep indention in his subconscious like an aged and fading ink that he would recall over time.

He sighed slothfully as he took another step up the path, placing the map back in his pocket since it was not needed right now. He stopped to poke his legs muscles and felt it strain slightly against his touch. It felt sore, but in a good way.

So far, it was quite a lax hike in his opinion, without steep slopes that led ups and downs. Though, he was feeling a bit out of breath.

It wasn't like he was out of shape. He just wasn't used to walking such long distance since there were traffics in Tokyo, and he was never a part of his school's track team nor any sports related extracurricular activities.

God, he wasn't even half-way to the mountain, and he's already feeling tired? He should really do some exercise and morning jogging the moment he returns to Tokyo.

Sighing had become a habit, maybe it was mental strain he had been feeling, but he couldn't found a day without less than five times of sighing. He was changing, for the better or for the worse? He didn't know. Though he hoped by the time this searching journey was over, it wouldn't be much a dramatic change of his character.

With that thought he kicked a twig away from the road, watching it fall off the side of the path and down a cliff.

He was thinking about the dream he had yesterday. Which he knew had something to do with a mountain, he was sure of it.

An hour had passed, when the soreness in his legs became slightly unbearable, he had found a relatively clean spot under the shade of a tree to rest. A bit out of breath, he had dropped the bag off his shoulders and to the grass, and with a sigh he sat down on a soft patch of dirt, leaning back until his spine touched the thick trunk behind him.

He leaned back, closed his eyes, and went slack against the trunk. Relaxed and at ease, he allowed his mind to drift, to the dream he had dreamed yesterday.

He couldn't actually recall it, to be honest. It had faded back to the back of his mind and refused to surface upon his calls, like every other dream he had had.

Though he could tell that this dream was a bit different from the others. There was an indescribable feeling about this particular dream, and he didn't know what to make of it. Was it pleasant? Was it heartbreaking like most cases? Was it nostalgic?

The dream was quite emotionally stressed if the tears he woke up with was any indication. Then again, that was practically every other dream he had every night he went to bed.

He had no clear remembrance of the dream last night, none save for the odd and sad lingering emotions and a faint image of a tall mountain.

A mountain, he could recall certainly.

It was vague, but he could recall it stood high above sea level, above human civilization, piercing clouds like it was wet paper, touching the heavens with its tip like it was an easy feat.

It was quite an impressive mountain, which led to him spending the whole morning and the short trip on the chef's car pondering on it. He had come to the conclusion: he figured that if there was any mountain it could possibly be, if it even exists, it would be the one he had climbed and found himself awake on roughly a year ago, the one that had left him dead confused in how and why he was up there. The mountain he was climbing right now at this very moment.

All the events that had happened a year ago, there were weird and made little sense. But somehow, he had a feeling, that they were not mere coincidences, they happened for a reason. He just knew that they were all linked together, like an unfinished puzzle yearning to be completed

Hence, the reason he was hiking said mountain.

There was something important up there he just must know, a truth he must discover no matter the cost.

Why was he up there a year ago? How did it have anything to do with Itomori? What was up there that managed to cause him this heartache?

Somehow, he knew. Don't question him how he knew when he didn't know it himself, but he just had the feeling, that the key to all these mysteries was on that mountain.

And the wait was _killing_ him.

He pulled out his map again and judged that it would probably take him another hour or two until he arrives the foot of the mountain. He was still pretty far from it.

He pocketed the map, and checked his wrist watch with a glance.

Then, he frowned, as though something had jolted in his mind.

Taki pursed his lips in deep thought, brows knitted together in concentration, eyes glazed over on the reflective surface of the glass on his watch.

Now that he thought about it.

Aside from the mountain, he could remember hearing…

…the voice of a person?

The ginormous blazing ball of flame known as the sun was high in the sky when he finally broke out the lines of trees to the open. The sense of accomplishment he felt at moment was short-lived when a sudden and abrupt flash of light saluted him. The brightness rendered his vision white momentarily. He yelped in surprise and rubbed his eyes to clear his sight.

The persistent whiteness from his eyes faded after a couple seconds of furious blinking. And when he finally opened them, he took in the scenery in all its glory.

He stood on a wasteland of rocks, and it stretched for miles upon miles, seemingly endless. The air around him distorted as the sun scorched the earth mercilessly.

Then, he tilted his head up, covering the sun with his spare hand. And his jaw fell open.

"Good lord, it's much taller than I originally thought."

Yep, it was tall, as tall as the _Tokyo Tower_ that was.

Perhaps he underestimated the length of the journey. His legs would be in _absolute_ agony tomorrow. With squinted eyes, he could make out the vague shape of the mountaintop, which was buried in a layer of clouds. And he didn't see any signs of stairs anywhere.

Great, just what he needed.

"Why does it have to be so _sunny,_ " he gritted out venomously, feeling grumpy. Three minutes out in the opening and he could already feel the black material of his clothing absorbing heat as if trying its best to cook him alive. Grunting in dismay, he shrugged off his coat and stuffed it in his bag, leaving him wearing a light blue jacket and a shirt beneath. He flipped the jacket hood over his head, shielding his face and hair away from the prying sun.

The sooner he got up the mountain, the better. The scowling face relented and sighed. And so he moved, his legs wobbled as he made his first step towards the mountain.

A few moments later, the horizontal ground began to curve upward to a slope, and Taki ascended.

At one point, he was more of staggering than walking, from exhaustion. His legs repeating their robotic movements with awkward stiffness, his limp arms swung reluctantly beside him with every step he took, and slowly his shoulders began to _burn_ from the friction generated by his bones grinding in their sockets.

His body was warming up so much that the cold didn't matter anymore. Instead, the heat was becoming overbearing. His head swirled, feeling slightly lightheaded probably from dehydration, and caused him to stumble over an embedded rock.

He staggered a few steps. Sweating pouring down his forehead and soaking his collar as the sun beamed down. Panting, he felt the fatigue from yesterday was coming back to finish him off.

He placed his foot on another rock as he pushed himself up, the boulder was fortunately secured in its place so it didn't shake or shift as he moved his weight on it.

He was near, he could literally _feel_ it deep in his bones.

He tilted his head to glance up, and he deduced that he was another fifty meters away from the top, and wasn't he glad that this all finally end.

The hill was _steep_ , and emphasis on the word. He swore it was more than a forty-five-degree angle at one point, and he would be kidding if he didn't found himself fearing for his life.

Against the better of his judgment, he allowed himself a moment of courage to look over his shoulder to the world far below him, and gulped in unconcealed fear as he immediately regretted said action.

He could easily imagine himself slipping the next step, and roll off the cliff like a ball of human meat.

Then.

He'd probably go _SPLAT._

A very wet and messy _SPLAT_ he might add

Not the best way to die, he supposed.

He mused gloomily to himself as he took another step forward, legs shivering from exertion, or was it fear?

What a happy thought.

Taki hummed in thought as stood on top of the mountain. He whistled, he was thoroughly impressed.

"He wasn't lying when he said the view's one to die for."

Indeed, in the end, the hike was worth all the trouble.

At his point of view, he was practically standing on the very top of the world, everything was far under the sole of his shoes. He might sound exaggerative, but he had a very good reason to. The horizons stretched as far as eyes could see, every creek, every tree, every mountain, were as small as mere ants. Insignificant when they were alone, but represents nature herself when united together.

Breathtaking. It was like a scene straight out from a drawing, from a fantasy.

He turned, and faced the inner interior of the mountain.

In front and below him, was a huge indentation the size of a soccer field. Enormous enough to contain a small town in it, small enough to make it someone's secret little haven.

It was as beautiful as the view outside, a circular field filled with grass of the brightest green. Plants and flowers of all different colors scattered across the field, dotting the green with assortments of yellow, red, orange, and purple. An enormous piece of mosaic art crafted from and by nature alone, he couldn't help but admire in awe.

There were trees, though not by much. It was more like minor adornments that helped create a peaceful ambiance.

What really caught his eye, though, was a small ring-shaped creek that surrounded a stone structure.

An ancient relic blessed by gods with sacredness so thick he could feel it crawling over his skin like humid mist even from such a distance.

And he found himself drawn to it in a similar manner of a moth attracted to a blazing pit of fire.

He walked down the interior of the indentation with careful steps, and the soft touch of tall grass and natural wheat greeted his arrival as he made it to the bottom. He marveled the true beauty of this haven as he treaded his way across the field to the structure.

Undefiled, pure. This place didn't contain a single piece of waste or garbage. And as far as he could see, there was no sign of human population or traces burning for the purpose of fertilizing.

Was this what people would call a sacred place? Great, because now he felt like a trespasser.

He marveled the softness of the grass as he proceeded slowly, glancing around the remarkable view in deep wonder.

The tall grasses were quite tall, since there wasn't anyone harvesting or managing the field, the taller ones were just tall enough to scratch his belt with their tips.

And god, the smell. The aroma was so deeply immersed with the nature that he no doubt he would smell like fresh grass hours after he left this place. It was amazingly refreshing to his mind, almost as though he was taking drugs, his brain felt clearer. He took a deep breath of nature and exhaled out, a dreamily smile on his face.

Eventually, he stopped in front of the weirdly shaped creek, standing beside a willow tree.

Now that he was significantly closer, he could observe the stone structure with a keener view.

It wasn't overly large, smaller than a house, but the size of a hut. It was built in the form of multiple large flat stone slabs leaned against one another, a slit formed between two loosely placed slabs, just big enough to fit a person in one at a time. He could hear the whistling of wind through the gap.

Behind the structure, was a giant tree. At least twice as high as other ordinary trees he had seen so far, this was loomed over the structure, casting a shadow over the area, like a guardian of some sort. With its trunk thick and leaves bushy, it certainly looked like the mother of trees.

The water was clean, clear enough that not a taint of murky water could be seen, so clear that he could visibly see the depth of the pond. And from that, he could deduce that it was only waist-deep, give or take half a meter.

Crossing it would not be a problem, he could spot a few conveniently well-placed rocks poking out the surface of the water, which could be served as stepping stones.

And seeing that the rocks were large enough for him to place a foot on it and have space to spare, he proceeded casually with light steps.

It was probably the sun's fault that he couldn't see a layer of moss surrounding the smooth surface of the rocks.

He promptly slipped and fell into the water with a loud splash.

His footsteps made wet slapping sounds as he treaded across the stone floor when he entered the slot produced by two stone slabs. Though he could hear the clattering of his teeth better.

He was drenched head-to-toe, he was shivering like mad against the cold. It couldn't be help, really. Regardless of how smothered he was an hour earlier, the freezing dive he recently took easily dominated the heat, and would probably bestow him a problematic cold.

He had quickly changed off his soaked shirt and jacket and tossed them out on the field, leaving them out to dry, and pulled out another spare shirt he had stored in his bag together with the coat he had discarded before, he quickly put them on. But the damage was already done, and he could already feel the impending sneeze coming forth.

To make it even worse, the air inside the cave was a few degrees lower than it was outside, and he was shivering with goosebumps gradually appearing on his skin. He made a futile attempt to wrap himself tighter in the coat to preserve what little warmth he had left.

The cave was dark, and it was probably the reason his head was smashed to the roof of the cave with a dull thud, snapping him out from his dazing. He groaned under his breath as he nursed the bump on his forehead.

"Could this day get any worse?"

He stepped down deeper into the cave, with more carefulness than before. He noticed was getting darker with every step he took, only able to see the faint outlines of his hand when he held it out in front of him. He grabbed his water-proofed phone from his pocket and activated its flashlight function, illuminating the cave in an instance.

It was also getting narrower the farther in he got, and soon he needed to kneel and crawl as he carried on. His pants soiled by wet mud and the skin on his palm scrubbed off as he continued to rub it with the cave ground.

His phone flashed, and he saw something at the end of the cave.

Was that… an altar? What's an altar doing this deep in a cave? So far up on a mountain?

He moved in closer to take a closer look. Even when it was covered in dust, runes faded over time, he could make out the stone tablet and a small platform for people to present their offerings.

Another flash of disorientation, something abnormal occurred in an instant, and Taki felt his senses dull as though a wave of drowsiness overcame him, but not quite enough to fall sleep, but to remain in a dream-like state.

Blank eyes locked on something on the altar, two bottles covered in moss and aged strings, a wooden stopper secured on top, it seemed like it contained something sacred and precious.

His senses further dulled, as if he was lured to a dreamland, into a trance-like state. His eyes glazed over as his vision blurred and… split?

A double image? Was he hallucinating? Or was it him losing his mind at long last?

He watched blankly as his illusionary arm reached over to the altar, grabbing the flask on the right, and undid the straps and unplugged the stopper.

Inevitably, unexplainably, he followed the motion like it was the most natural thing to do.

The coldness in his bones was forgotten as though it wasn't even there. His mind was blank, his lips were dry, and his eyes were glassy with excessive wetness. His emotions were a raging hurricane of a mess.

But it felt right deep at the bottom of his heart.

It felt right, _perfect_ even if he dared to say.

As he took the bottle from the altar, undid the clumsily made knots, pulled out the stopper from the flask, raised it shakily to his lips, and took a gulp of the kuchikamizake. Everything started making sense.

He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then, the world blurred, losing color as the cave warped.

And, a year since it all began and ended, Taki Tachibana _saw_ once more.


End file.
